Orchestrating the Silence
by SerialRavist
Summary: What happens when the last two people on Earth can't stand each other?
1. Intro: Larghetto

_Author's note: It should be clear shortly if it's not already, but this picks up right where End of Evangelion left off. I know, it's not an original premise at all, and it's probably been beaten into the ground, but this story's been in my head for a while and I just wanted to get it down on paper. Or... in pixels. So, if you want, read on and enjoy yourself._

_I'm rating it M. It's probably skirting the line between T and M, but I want to be safe._

_I don't own Evangelion. If I did, I wouldn't need this disclaimer._

* * *

Intro: Larghetto

_Pain._

_Pain. Hot pain, searing through my viscera. Jagged teeth, tearing claws and mindless laughter. Intestines stretching, limbs as trophies. Screaming does nothing. Helpless._

_I'm disappearing. No, I'm already gone? World-burning rage, helpless. Vultures, white vultures, the halo of the sun. Circling shadows above; I'm squinting. The heartbeat of some great beast, pounding thunder-like, deafening, and the beast is me._

_No, not me; gone. Sun's going dark, be gone soon. Someone... someone I know, close by. Someone warm. Not enough, though. Too little, too late._

_Darkness. Blue eyes, blinking, pupils narrowing, startled. A kitchen? A familiar place._

_Cold words now, desperate words, pleas. Sharp words, frost-slicked steel. They're designed to hurt, to cause what I feel. An offer, a tantrum, refusal. Neither pity nor quarter, barely above a whisper._

_Hands grasping now, not my hands, squeezing. Choking. Lights fading again, cold coming again, but no pain this time. No fighting. The high road. Grunting, roaring, darkness._

_Another pair of eyes, eyes all over, watching, judging. Some are mine. What is inside comes out, dirty, cowering, a panting wreck. Hate it. Hate it so much. Can see theirs too, shameful and smothered, but hate it. Have to get out, have to..._

_Water. A drop, echoing._

_Mama? Mama loves me._

_Watchers back, clawing, prying, but I fight. I see as through a prism of hearts, not what I want, and I fight, and I flee. Flee through darkness._

_Mama loves me. But Mama's gone now._

_Someone else isn't. Someone, something warm. Spiky and warm, someone familiar, and I swim through what isn't there, swim away, swim towards a solid anchor piercing the veil and find_ that I can't breathe. Something's around my neck, and I can't move.

He's strangling me. Again.

I'm not even angry. I'm dying again, feeling the sands slip through numb fingers once more, and I'm not mad, because Mama loves me. And because we hurt each other. Even now I can feel it, feel his rage and pain, sharp as a knife in my womb.

Sky above, nothing but a dark blur. My fingers twitch, all the more I can move now. Eyes burning, muscles straining, I lift a hand. Lift it and touch his face. Want to feel something before I go. Loss. Things aren't... didn't have to be this way. Want him to know.

Fingers trail along a smooth cheek, caressing, but the effort is too much, the weight too heavy. My hand falls. Wind roars somewhere despite the stillness, and the too-bright stars go dim.

* * *

Exhausted, I collapse onto the sand and simply lie there for a long time. Just a few meters away, the sea laps patiently against the sand. It's red, now. The water is red. LCL. The spray has already marked the cross I put up for Misato, leaving premature signs of age.

Something draws my attention to the side, and with effort I roll my head to face that way, staring out over the water. Rei is floating there, I see. Just... hovering in place, leaving a tiny shadow on the rippling surface of the water below. She's watching me.

I stare back. I don't know what you want me to do, Rei. I don't know that I'd do it if I did. I'm tired. Tired of all this. I've taken your lessons to heart, but... it's hard. It's hard and I'm tired.

The silence stretches. I find myself wondering if she's really there at all. Her school uniform should seem out of place in the crumbling wreckage of the world, but I can't summon the will to laugh. Mirth seems inappropriate now in any case.

Silence, but for the waves. I blink, and she's gone.

For a time I just continue staring, but after a moment I sigh, pushing myself laboriously upright. The sea is a monument to apocalyptic pain now, a half-submerged temple to hubris and failed plans. Rough statues stick out from the waves at odd intervals, some slanting drunkenly, the petrified remains of the mass-produced Eva series. Somewhere in the distance, water laps against an enormous stone likeness of half of Rei's wide-eyed face. Is she staring at me? I don't think so. I'd laugh if I had the energy for it.

At the thought, my eyes flicker sideways again, but it's no use, of course. She's gone. Maybe she was never there.

Everything's so red now. The water, the arc of souls in the sky. The plugsuit and hair of the girl next to me.

Asuka's lying there on her back, her face about as peaceful as I've ever seen it. I think she's alive. I dragged her out of the water not ten minutes ago and she was breathing then.

She's got a bandage over one eye, and matching ones on her right hand and arm where the suit has been cut away. By whom, I couldn't tell you. I don't know where the bandages came from either, but like Rei's uniform, like Rei herself, there's really no gain in wondering. It's just there.

Abruptly and without reason, my numbness shatters into rage just from looking at Asuka. All the suffering I've suffered at her hands, at everyone's hands, comes crashing home, drawing lips from my teeth in a feral snarl. She's nothing but a point source of pain. Even Instrumentality didn't seem to change her either; I was desperate then, seeking help from anyone, but she wouldn't lift a goddamn finger to save my life when I needed it. All because I needed help anyone could give, not just her.

My limbs move of their own accord, climbing, reaching. Squeezing. As I straddle her hips and start strangling her, I can't help but suspect with a flash of black humor that this must be starting to get routine for her now. She's nothing but pain, and she can't stand me, and really, I've just had enough of her shit. No more. My thumbs meet over her Adam's apple and push in; my teeth grind.

One blue eye stares unblinking at the heavens. One bandaged hand twitches, then rises to touch my face. No, to caress.

I freeze, relax. Waves whisper against the shore.

Fingers slide, then drop back to the sand. I blink. As quickly as it came, my rage disappears, leaving me a shaking wreck. Hot liquid trickles down my cheeks, drops onto her face, her lips, but she doesn't stir.

Does she know what she's doing? Does she even... but how couldn't she? A gesture like that is too specific to be reflex. She knows.

It's too much. Tears blur my vision and I collapse atop her, unable to stop the sobs now wracking my body. What... what the hell is wrong with me? Earlier today I made a choice. Life implies pain, as Rei explained; you can't have one without the other. And shortly after that entire ordeal, when confronted with pain, what's the first thing I do? Run from it. Choke it away.

Did Rei put her here, I wonder, just to see what I'd do? To test me? If so, I've failed. I thought I'd grown up somewhat during Instrumentality, but clearly that's not the case, or at least not to any significant degree. Or maybe _I_ brought here here. No... I think I'd remember that.

"How disgusting." Her voice is low, a murmur, and hoarse from being strangled.

I just... I can't run from pain anymore. I owe it to her as much as myself to change. My God, I almost killed her.

* * *

Long moments pass, but Shinji continues to cry. That's not really what I wanted to see on coming back here, and I kind of wish he would stop. He's just a trembling weight on my thighs, curled up and shaking and gasping. And as strange as it is to realize this... I don't get it. I didn't mean to upset him, but if it's made him regret all the stuff he did to me... so much the better, I suppose.

Eventually he half-falls off me and crawls a short distance away along the sand. There he stops and plants his face in his hands, but the tears continue, as do the gasping sobs that suggest he's doing his damnedest not to lose it altogether.

With him no longer restraining me, I sit up. Or try to; it's harder than I was expecting. A consequence of being... away, maybe. With a grimace I'm able to push myself up to a seated position, though, and that lets me look around to take stock of my surroundings. Our surroundings.

We're on an unfamiliar beach. White sand, red water. No... the scent tells me it's LCL, even from here, but it's frothing and playing like sea water. Maybe it's a little of both. It's night, too, and the stars seem too bright for the moment it takes me to realize that this is because there are no city lights obscuring them. No lights at all, in fact, except those hovering above. Oddly-familiar statues lean in slovenly disarray up from the sea, and farther out gapes a megalithic and godlike half-Rei. Behind us, over the slope of the beach, I can spot skeletal power poles and tilted street signs. This place, I decide, feels like it should ring a bell, but I don't know this part of the city very well.

I swallow, and it hurts. Making a face, I rub my neck gingerly, but I don't think anything's broken there, or out of place. It's strange, but my throat actually hurts more than the parts of me covered in bandages. The warm weight against my left eye is a little stifling, but I ignore it. The sensation will go away on its own.

The cyclical murmur of blood waves keeps time to Shinji's choked gasping. Stars stare coldly down on us, along with the moon, a circle split in two by a curious arc of red in the sky. My memory stirs at that, but whatever it means, it's gone before I can identify it.

Gradually Shinji forces his tears under control; now all I can hear from him is a sort of heavy breathing and the occasional sniffle. Without turning my head in his direction I hug knees to my chest and stare out over the dark water.

I'm here. Alive. On solid ground. I've never really appreciated that before.

Time crawls past; I'm not sure how much. An hour, maybe, in silence broken only by the waves.

What even happened? It's a question that probably should have struck me right away, but the fog of slumber has only slowly disappeared from my mind. That was... Third Impact, clearly. I didn't really know it was supposed to be like that, dreamlike and shared. More like a nightmare than a dream, really, but like either, it's already fading from memory. Some parts stick out, though, parts I won't forget. I remember Shinji. There was actually a lot of Shinji, but what stands out clearly is the argument. Misato's kitchen, but different. He's so pathetic, literally begging for help, like he thinks I'll be some mindless pair of arms to comfort him. Like I'll put everything on hold to satisfy some circle-jerk sympathy fantasy of his. After everything he did to me? _Over_ me? Not likely.

I remember him strangling me. The silence beforehand, his head hanging, too weak to look me in the eye. The odd grinning snarl on his face in the split second before he did it. He's stronger than I would have thought, or at least he was in that place. It didn't take long for darkness to take over.

I remember choosing not to fight him. It was a sick gesture, letting him kill me just so that I could be free of pain, and maybe do the same for him. I don't think it helped, though.

I remember touching his face. I loathe him, but that was honest.

It's... quiet here. There's the wash of waves, but nothing else. No traffic, no television in another room. No animals, even. I wonder if any are even left.

Resting my chin on my knees, I stare vaguely off at Rei's monumental head, sliced in half. It's a ludicrous thing to see, but I feel curiously little at the sight. I barely remember anything of her from Instrumentality.

Whatever. "Shinji, I'm thirsty."

* * *

I blink at Asuka, barely registering her words as thoughts of a unified blob of humanity fade into mist. She's just staring off over the water, not looking at me at all. A few strands of red hair dance fitfully away from her shoulders in the faint sea-breeze.

As the silence deepens, she turns her head, and a slight frown creases her features. Not an angry frown. "I'm thirsty," she repeats quietly, blue eyes levelly meeting my own.

Oh. "I... I don't have any water," I admit, grimacing. "I haven't really looked around much." In fact I probably haven't been more than ten or fifteen meters from where we sit. Even Misato's memorial I made out of driftwood washed up on the beach.

A wave froths playfully against the sand as she watches me. "How long have you been here?"

I shake my head, glancing out over the moonlit water. "Not long. Less than a day before you woke up, and then... an hour since? Hour and a half?" Eyeing her again, I don a questioning expression, wondering at the length of our solitude.

Rather than answer, she frowns a little more deeply, apparently waiting for more. Then she lifts a cool eyebrow. "Water?"

"I said I..." Sighing, I shake my head, then climb to my feet. "Can you stand?"

A dark look crosses her face as she stares down at herself. "I don't think so," she answers, her voice low.

I hesitate at this. It's unlike her to admit inability, especially without trying first. I suppose I've changed in the last day, though; why not her too? And why water? I mean, sure, I see the obvious need for basic necessities, but if I were her, I'd sure as hell be confused about what just happened. About the city, the world, all the people in it.

Too proud to ask, I suppose. Typical Asuka.

As the silence stretches, I shift my feet in the sand. "Aren't you going to try?"

She spares me a withering look, then sighs, planting hands on the ground and pushing. Tendons stand out in her trembling arms and shoulders, and her lips peel back from her teeth, but shortly she falls back, letting her head plop back into the sand. Naked pain on her face is shortly replaced with a scowl. "I... can't," she mutters, turning her face away.

After a moment I let drop the hand I was holding out for her. She'd still rather fail than let anyone help her. Typical Asuka.

When I say nothing, she rolls her head back to stare up at me, blue eyes strangely cautious. "Can you get some for me?"

"Some water?" I clarify. She nods once. I open my mouth again to answer in the affirmative, but abruptly it occurs to me how similar this situation is to when she was in the hospital, sedated. Her lying there, helpless, while I stand over her and make a choice. Only this time it's her who needs something from me, rather than the other way around. I'm not the weak one anymore. Not the strong one, either, maybe, but... not weak.

Her eyes harden as though the same thought has occurred to her. She says nothing, though.

"Fine," I sigh. "Anything else?"

"Get some food, too. Unless you'd rather head out a second time when we get hungry."

I feel a smile tug at my lips, but it's not one of happiness. She just came back from death, and has spoken to me only to insult me and send me on errands. Typical Asuka. "No problem," I assure her. "Don't go anywhere, though." Only after the words leave my mouth do I realize how stupid they sound, and I grimace.

"Bite me." Her voice is bored, not angry.

Shaking my head, I turn and make my way up the gentle slope of the beach, feeling the sand give under every quiet step. Gradually the city resolves into view past the peak of the incline, and I stand atop it for a moment, staring around.

Tokyo-3 is... somehow more immense than I remember. An endless warren of crouching shadows and half-toppled infrastructure glowing silently in the silver moonlight. Even after accounting for the massive chunk of the city missing after the departure of the Black Moon, it's still enormous, an easy place to get lost in with no vehicle and no Eva to carry me around.

It's a ghost town.

Lips tight, I glance back behind me, but Asuka is still just lying on the beach. She's propped herself up on her elbows now, though, for all the world like someone enjoying a tropical vacation somewhere.

After a moment I shift my gaze back to the abandoned city and try not to slump where I stand. With no flashlight or anything, this should be... interesting, but Asuka doesn't look good, not at all. I'm sure she needs water and whatever else she can think of, and I owe it to her to get what she needs.

Taking a deep breath, I step over a low wall and onto the cracked pavement beyond. With steeled shoulders and a determined scowl, I forge off into the moon-painted shadows to scavenge what I can.

* * *

_Author's note part two: Sorry for the fragmented beginning, but it had to be done. I expect it'll alternate points of view from now on, with each chapter belonging to a single character. Look for Asuka's in chapter two._


	2. Grave Non Troppo

Grave Non Troppo

So many stars. Even with the moon out, they're just so... bright. I've never really seen anything like it before, except maybe on _Over the Rainbow_, but I had other things to worry about then, like Kaji and Shinji and fighting the Sixth Angel. Here, though, there's nothing much to do but stare at the sky.

No lights out, either. The wash of urban light pollution has made stargazing a pretty dull hobby for most of my life; Tokyo-3 is actually the least-populous city I've lived in. Or at least it was for most of the time I was here. It definitely is now.

I wonder... I wonder if anyone else is even in the city. Or in the world.

Nothing but silence now, silence and the soothing wash of the waves. As pretty as the sky is, though, I can't help but find my eyes drawn back to the ribbon of crimson arcing smoothly through the night sky, intersecting the moon. I've been through college, and I know a lot of things, and one of them is that the Earth is... not supposed to have a ring. It's the same color as the LCL sea, too.

I frown. Another wave whispers against the smooth sand.

Whatever. The stars are pretty. The rhythm of the lapping sea is relaxing as well, but only if I can avoid looking at it. All that leaves me is... the sky.

I wonder where Shinji is. Maybe I shouldn't have sent him off alone; I'm thirsty, but not desiccated or anything. Dork's probably gone and broken a leg in the dark or something.

Another wave. Breeze stirs my hair as I lie in the sand.

It's so... quiet here. That's another thing I keep coming back to. So... not tranquil, exactly, but subdued. It's like the pressure differential between the static in my head and the silence outside allows my worries to push out into the environment and just dissipate somewhere. I don't think I even realized I was walking around with a permanent knot in my belly until I noticed a few minutes ago that it was gone.

I'm not tense. Not happy, but not tense either. This is something new. I've died and come back, and the Angels are gone, so the problems I face now are pretty mild in comparison. I mean, that was the goal, right? My goal, at least. No more Angels.

It seems like I should be smiling.

Without really thinking about it I reach a hand up and touch my face, not for the first time. It feels like it should, but the square of gauze over my left eye is a new addition. I remember all too well getting stabbed there, the sickening combination of shocking pain and numbness, followed by an eerie chill. The bandage seems awfully small, if it's intended to cover an injury like that. But then, it doesn't really hurt. Neither does my right arm, and I definitely remember feeling that split right down the middle.

A rumble reaches my ears, and belatedly I realize I'm grinding my teeth. Exhaling heavily, I still my jaw and reach my arms out to either side. The sand is damp and cool despite the warmth of the night air, and fine grains stick to my skin as I absently burrow hands into the ground.

Where the hell is he? How long does it really take to find the most common substance on the surface of the planet? I hope he's just turning clever, getting a bunch of useful stuff while he happens to be out now.

Blood waves rustle on sand. I close my eyes.

Some time later, maybe an hour after he left, I hear soft footsteps on the slope behind me. Without opening my eyes I listen more carefully, evaluating the slow but steady rhythm they create, something suited to a tired or depressed individual.

Yeah, that's him. In my head I can almost see him making his reluctant way over here, probably not sure whether I'm going to be nice or snap at him.

When he's close, I hold an open hand out, and shortly something plastic sloshes into it. "Thanks." The word comes out as more of a mutter than an expression of gratitude.

"Don't mention it." Shinji plops down onto the sand next to me, and I can hear plastic wrappers crinkle as he shifts things around in his hands. "I got other stuff too. Some food. I found a... what used to be a convenience store, and got some energy bars and stuff. Found a flashlight too, but the batteries must have been dead."

As he's speaking I sit upright again and twist the cap off the bottle of water he got for me. With a mouth half-full of clear liquid, I pause, frowning; it's lukewarm, not chilled. Shifting my expression to Shinji, I nod a question at him while swallowing. "You got this from a store?"

"Yeah." Cobalt eyes shift to meet mine, then slide away again. "I didn't... pay for it, obviously."

I suppress my annoyance at this unnecessary clarification. "Was it in a refrigerator or something?"

He nods, cracking open his own bottle. There are four more sitting next to him, as well as a handful of bar-shaped foil packages glittering in the moonlight. "Yeah. There's lots of stuff there, if you want more."

I feel my frown deepening as I regard the mostly-full plastic bottle in my hands. "Shinji, it's not cold at all."

Narrow shoulders roll irritably. "What do you want me to do? There's no electricity."

"No, it's..." Pausing, I spare him a disgusted look. "No, idiot, those cases are insulated. If the power just went off, they'd still be cold. Or at least cool."

He scowls back at me, but as my meaning sinks in, his face grows more thoughtful, almost worried. "It was daylight when we... left," he recalls softly, glancing at the dark sky above. "And now it's night."

"About midnight," I guess, eyeing the fullish moon almost directly overhead; it'll be opposite the sun at this point. "We were gone more than a few hours, though. A couple of days, at least." Unless that particular store just had crappy beverage cases.

"I don't know," he admits, visibly troubled. "I suppose we could have been gone for a year for all I know. A thousand years."

"The city would barely be here after a thousand years," I point out acidly. "So it's probably only..." I pause, wondering why I even care. "Look, just give me one of those bars. I'm hungry."

He shrugs, retrieving the gaudy packages from where they lay. "What do you want? Apple? Tri-Berry? I think there's a..."

Shinji falls silent as I swipe a bar at random from his hands, then tug apart the wrapper. After the first bite, though, I freeze, then resume chewing more slowly. "The hell is this?" I wonder, finding the wrapper again to inspect it by moonlight. "Prune? Seriously? You got a prune-flavored energy bar?"

"I just grabbed one of everything there," he explains mildly. "Don't blame me. Maybe you should have waited and listened before taking one."

I feel my eyes widen at this, too surprised to be angry. For a moment. "Well, maybe if you hadn't taken forever, I wouldn't have been so hungry."

"It's dark out, Asuka." His voice is uncharacteristically calm. Not flat or dead, just calm. "The streets are full of glass and random debris and stuff. Inside buildings it's even darker; I had to find all of this this mostly by touch."

"Whatever." As Shinji begins to eat as well, I spare him a sidelong glance against my better judgement, but he seems totally collected. That seems odd; he should be stammering an apology or yelling back at me, or failing both of those, simply staring vacantly at the ground.

In silence we eat, and shortly I'm licking sticky glaze from my fingers. "Hey," I begin, nodding up at the sky. "What's that red thing?"

He takes another swallow of water from his bottle, following my gaze. Then he makes a sad face. "Souls," he answers quietly. "Human souls. They... uh, came spraying out of Rei's neck during Instrumentality."

I nod silently. It seems like this should shock or horrify me, but now that just kind of seems... par for the course. "They're all up there, huh?" I wonder softly. "Do you suppose anyone is here besides us, or are they all in orbit now?"

Shinji doesn't answer, and when I glance at him, he's giving me some weird look, like he's embarrassed at something stupid I've said. "Don't look at me like that," I snap. "It seems empty here, but we haven't really explored or anything. There could be tons of people around, just not here. Tokyo-3 is--"

"The one place people are almost guaranteed to come back to," he interrupts smoothly. "But you can see how quiet it is here. There's no one around, Asuka. Nobody in the world. Just you and me." His eyes meet mine significantly, without humor.

I peel my lips back to chew him out for the lame Adam and Eve comparison, but with effort I keep my mouth shut. It's... so easy to fall into old patterns, isn't it? I need to try harder now. I can complain all I want about everything that's happened, but one thing it's given me is a chance to start things fresh. I didn't need Third Impact to tell me I was a colossal failure before.

Shinji keeps his silence as he eats, perhaps wisely, and I take the opportunity to regain my composure. For some reason I end up gazing off at the half-likeness of Rei's face out in the water. She's going to be there for some time, I suppose. I can almost see idiots in a future generation hauling it out of the water to place in a monument like some damn holy relic.

"So," sighs my companion after a long moment. "What do you suppose we do now?"

"Well," I shrug, "there's lots of stuff to do. We could use more food than just those bars, and I might need crutches for a little while, and we could both use new clothes." I'm still wearing my plugsuit, for one thing, and Shinji's school uniform has probably been ruined by the drying LCL. "Also, it would be a good idea to explore. We're scavengers now, for the time being -- we'll call this Phase One -- so until we can get all of our necessities, and maybe a vehicle--"

"No," he interjects, lifting a stalling hand. "I mean in the long run. I agree it won't take us long to get all the stuff we need to survive, so after that... what is there to do? There are no people now. No... no structure, no goals. All we can shoot for is to survive for a long time. To die old instead of young."

Die? "You've got to be kidding me," I growl, rubbing my face with one hand. "Shinji, there _have_ to be more people. There are two of us just on this beach, and the rest of the world is much larger. I really doubt it's all empty."

He starts shaking his head slowly while I'm still talking. "Think about it, Asuka. For one thing, we're not just two random people who appeared on a beach; we were both... kind of... closely involved with Third Impact. Probably the two most closely-involved of those that'll ever make it back, and this beach is pretty close to where it all happened. And in any case," he adds when I open my mouth, "like you said, it's probably been days since it all happened. We haven't seen any other people yet, or even _signs_ of any other people. Plus, if anyone else were here, I just... think that... I would know."

I scowl at the side of his head, fighting the urge to smack it. "You're an idiot," I point out helpfully, "and you wouldn't just _know_. But also, it's way too early to say anything like that. Let's look around and see who else might be here."

"We can if you want to," he sighs irritatingly, "but I don't think we'll find anyone. I mean, look around you. The city is just... obviously empty."

"Well, even if you're right," I decide, "we're here, right? So eventually other people might make it back." They have to. Going through all of that crap just to live like hunter-gatherers again... that's a decision Shinji would come to regret.

He doesn't answer for a moment, and a few meters away another wave hisses into the beach. The lines of foam along the breaker almost look like words before they writhe and dissipate.

"Rei said... people could return," explains Shinji eventually; his voice is as distant as it is quiet. "She said people who were... I think strong-willed, and wanted to come back here, could. But there's just us, now. We're the only two people in the world. And, really, who'd want to come back to this, anyway? It's all just blood and shambles."

I shoot him another icy look, but the jerk isn't even paying attention to me. "So," I conclude, keeping my voice menacingly soft, "what you're saying is that there's nobody here right now, so clearly there won't_ ever_ be any more people, so we shouldn't even bother to make plans for the future. Do you realize what an utterly ass-backwards idea that is?" No wonder the world looks like this, if he was the one in charge of ending it or saving it.

Blank blue eyes slide to meet mine, and for a moment he just blinks. Then he quirks a little smile, returning to stare out over the bay. He doesn't say anything, though.

The hell? Jerk's too good to answer me? Scowling, I plant hands against the sand and push. My arms and legs shake somewhat but this time I'm able to stand.

Shinji scrambles to his feet beside me, hovering as though he's sure I'm going to fall at any time. I shoot him a warning glance, then frown at the water. It feels good to put weight on my legs. "Hey."

"What?"

"Get me some crutches." Sea breeze ruffles my hair as I speak, brings a measure of respite from the ever-present humidity. "I don't care what you find, just as long as it'll hold my weight."

"O-Okay." His voice is breathy, solicitous. "Right. I'll be right back."

I ignore him as he hurries off, instead feeling another scowl form on my face as I regard the distant remains of Wondergirl. I don't have a clue how she came to be like that, but I'm not exactly sad that she's gone.

After long moments of stillness my legs start to feel tired. With a sigh I step forward, then find myself stumbling and falling to the sand. Flinging arms forward, I manage to catch myself just short of an undignified face-plant. A quick glance behind me shows me that Shinji's already gone, that he didn't see. Good.

Exhaling tightly, I push myself up and shift around, letting the sea wash against my plugsuited feet and calves. This close, it smells like salt and blood. Like me.

I barely remember a time before I knew about LCL, and now I feel like it's as much a part of me as the stuff it looks and smells like. It's part and parcel of my identity as a pilot... but I still can't say I like it. You'd have to be a freak to enjoy floating in a tube of blood for hours at a time.

Waves foam around my legs. I keep thinking I should be smiling.

Really, as I think about it, I'm glad to be here, even if I am stuck with Shinji. I left Instrumentality as quickly as I could, but I learned more just before it than I did during the event itself. I confirmed that I don't fear death, that I can fight without surrender until oblivion claims me. I learned that... that Mama was here all along, and she loves me. But Unit-02 is gone now, torn to shreds, and Mama with it.

My eyes burn, so I close them, keeping ears alert in case Shinji returns. It's always... always too late, isn't it? Too late to do anything except regret.

No, I'm glad to be here. Not because I love life or anything, but because I hated Instrumentality.

Snapping my eyes open again, I stare coldly across the moon-kissed waters at Rei, clenching my jaw so tightly it hurts. Fuck you, Rei. Fuck your Third Impact. Fuck your ocean of blood. The world would have been just fine without it, and if I'd known what you and Shinji's old man were up to, I'd have fought you. Shinji and I both would have. He's... he's a perv and an idiot but he's not a villain.

Soft footsteps issue from the sand behind and above me. Swallowing, I climb to my feet again and take a deep breath once I'm upright. My face feels stiff, but there's not much I can do about it now, not with him just a few meters away.

He approaches quietly, almost diffidently, a man trying to whisper in a library he knows damn well is empty. Shortly he shuffles to a halt beside me at the edge of the sea, and something fluffs dully into the sand.

I swallow once more, then glance sideways. He's propped a twisted length of steel into the ground. Rebar, looks like. If straight, it would be taller than me, but abused and bent as it is, it comes to a right angle at about the height of my shoulder. It'll work. Shifting my gaze to my companion, I lift an eyebrow in silent question.

"I found it speared through a car," he explains, shrugging. "No idea where it came from. Do you think it'll be too heavy?"

In response I hold out a hand and he passes the thing to me. Even in my uncertain state I can lift it without much trouble. "It'll be fine," I decide. Shifting the makeshift crutch about, I put an arm over the bend and lean on it, pushing it another few centimeters into the sand. It'll probably bruise me, but I'll be able to move. It's better than staying here, or having Shinji fall because he's trying to carry me.

He watches me cautiously, obviously ready to catch me if I fall, but shortly nods. "What do you want to do? Until it gets light, I don't know how much we--"

"Let's move," I answer curtly, shifting my shoulder around on the crutch. It's hard to hold onto, lacking a handle, but it could be worse.

"Where?" wonders Shinji uncertainly. "It's mostly streets and gas stations and stuff around here."

"I don't care." Giving my head a toss, I glare at the petrified MP Evas, at Rei. "I don't care. Anywhere is better than here."


	3. Andante

Andante

I watch carefully as Asuka turns around, as she struggles the first few steps away from the water. Her face, once so pretty, now tired and bandaged, is tight with the effort of moving, and probably also with the effort of keeping me from knowing how difficult it is for her. Threaded steel rebar digs into her armpit as she hobbles ahead, and I know it hurts, but she doesn't make a sound.

After about ten paces, she shoots me a sideways glare. "Shinji, just back off. I'm tired, not an invalid."

I shake my head helplessly, edging a short distance farther away, but I keep my eyes on her. At least I'm Shinji now, not "idiot."

Gradually Asuka makes her way up the gentle slope and I shuffle along beside her. Her crutch digs into the wet sand with every unsteady step, and several times it catches, threatening to topple her, but she never falls.

On reaching the top of the hill, I step over the little white-painted wall, then offer a hand for Asuka. The gesture earns me a disgusted glance but no biting words, at least. It takes her probably twice as long to get past the mild obstacle alone as it would have with my help, but at least she didn't fall. Maybe she's right about not being crippled.

Before resuming our exploration, however, she pauses, shifting her grip on the crutch with a grimace. "Where is everything?"

Her voice is still hoarse, not quite a croak, and it tugs at my heart to hear it, every time. I wonder how long it takes to recover from near-strangulation. "What do you mean, everything?"

She regards me flatly, probably thinking I'm asking just to annoy her. "The stuff you found," she clarifies. "The store."

Oh. "It's off that way," I answer, pointing to my left. "A few hundred meters, probably. One of those shadows over there."

She nods once, curtly. "A convenience store, you said? What else did they have?"

"Um, other stuff." I watch her reaction as I speak, but the lameness of my answer doesn't spark an outburst. She's tired, then. Talking just to be able to wait here for a while. "I couldn't really see much since it was so dark in there."

"Then our first goal is to get lights," she decides. "Let's see the flashlight you got."

"I don't have it anymore." I spread my hands helplessly. "What's the point, if it doesn't work?"

A shadowed blue eye regards me narrowly. "Because batteries are easier to find than whole flashlights, stupid. Where is it now?"

"In one of the cars in the parking lot over there. By the store."

She starts moving before I even finish speaking, and with a sigh I a settle in beside her. At least it seems like easier going now, over sidewalk rather than sand. I can still hear the wash of the sea from up here, though it's muted.

Rubble crunches under our feet as we progress, and once again I study Asuka, trying to keep from being too obvious about it. The feet of her plugsuit are reinforced somewhat, padded with some extra rubber, but they weren't meant for walking over chunks of concrete and broken glass. At one point she stops, breath catching, then angrily kicks away an angular rock that got stuck in the padding. An icy glare silences me before I can even offer help, and I leave well enough alone.

"We need more clothes," she mutters as we walk. "And a bath wouldn't kill me. Or you."

"I know." A stray breeze stirs little dust devils out of the settled mayhem in the street. "I don't know where to get them, though. I doubt the store has any."

"Of course it doesn't," she snaps. "I'm just saying." Pausing for a moment, she clenches her bandaged right fist, then relaxes it, clearly trying to work circulation back into it. I wish she'd walk with the crutch under her other arm, but she's right-handed and probably didn't even think of it.

Without further conversation we proceed at an angle across the abandoned street and onto the opposite sidewalk. Silent vehicles lie here and there pointing in both directions, some glittering in the moonlight like shiny insect corpses. In an intersection a short distance away, the pavement has split, leaving a jagged crack a meter wide angling wildly through it; above, dark traffic lights stare mutely across at one another, swaying faintly in the breeze.

As we're making our way across the parking lot, Asuka jerks her head at me. "Go get the flashlight," she rasps. "There should be batteries in the store. Unless... oh, maybe one of the cars has keys. Headlights would work much better."

"They don't. I checked." Having a car might be nice in any case, but there are only two in the lot -- most people had other things to worry about when the JSSDF was invading NERV -- and neither had keys handy.

She eyes me oddly, a little angrily, and I shrug, picking up my speed to how I normally walk. Quickly I outdistance her and find the flashlight I left sitting in the driver's seat of a dirty economy car. Pausing to dump the useless batteries out of the thing, I wander into the store, gritting my teeth as pieces of glass grind against my shoes. I had to smash the door to get in, earlier.

Inside the store it's almost perfectly silent, a stifling sensation after sitting near the sea for so long, and only the barest whisper of reflected moonlight from outside serves to distinguish thick shadows from one another. Keeping arms outstretched ahead of me, I feel my way towards the counter, aware of my irregular breathing as the only sound in the building.

Soon my fingers find something, glossy paper. Magazines, then. Exhaling heavily, I fumble around, identifying things and packages by touch alone. Mints. Gum. Newspapers. Novelty keyrings. Batteries.

Swallowing, I grab what I can, tugging the packages off their stubborn little hooks, hoping the right size and shape are represented in what the store has. A moment later, I find my way back outside with an armful of battery packages.

Once out on the sidewalk, I dump the stuff to the ground, then squat next to the pile, sorting through it by moonlight. Asuka has reached the store, I see, and is now simply leaning against its outer wall, watching me work.

In moments I've found what I needed and slipped it into the light. A flip of the switch sends a thin cone of silver radiance along the sidewalk, and, glancing up, I shine it at Asuka in brief celebration.

"Cut it out," she growls, shielding her eye with one hand. "And get inside. You see if you can find more lights and food, and I'll look for medicine. We're now to the point where a scratch can kill you if there are no antibiotics handy."

"Yeah." Straightening, I duck through the hole I made in the door earlier and make my way towards the cash register, letting Asuka get inside on her own power. Once to the counter I set the flashlight on it, aimed at the ceiling to provide indirect light to the rest of the store's cramped interior. It's not great, something comparable to the moonlight outside, but at least it'll let us see, if not read.

As I'm adjusting the thing to optimize the spread of illumination, Asuka crutches silently past me and makes for the limited pharmaceutical section. After a moment I give up, then roam the few short aisles in the store. Almost immediately I find what I'm after, an automotive section of sorts, which happens to have one of those emergency flashlights that's just like the one we have now, only more expensive. I swipe it and start tugging it out of the box. "Found another light," I declare.

"Good."

Jaunting quickly outside to the pile of batteries, I select three of the requisite type and put them in. Then, on my way back into the store, I grab the original and hand it to Asuka. "Here."

"Thanks." She grabs it from my hand without even looking, then bends to examine a shelf of pill bottles.

Shaking my head, I wander around, looking for lightweight and useful stuff. One item immediately catches my attention. "Hey, I found a backpack, too," I announce, tugging it off the hook it's hanging from. The flashlight shows it to have the logo of some vodka brand on it, but I could hardly care less at this point.

"Good," she repeats absently. "Then you'll have room to get something to drink besides water. Oh, and grab me some black licorice if you see any."

"What? You're kidding." Frowning, I return to the food section, but it's all crap. "That stuff is nasty."

"You'd better get some if you want me to stay happy," she warns.

"No way. I'm not wasting the space on that." A few more bars go into the backpack as I speak, followed by a bag of soy chips and some crackers that don't look too bad. Everything else looks to be worse than nothing.

"Whatever. Fine."

Ignoring her, I make my way back to the beverage coolers and study my options. Apart from the couple shelves of water I found earlier, it's basically all soda and glitzy energy drinks. With a sigh I grab a few more waters, followed by a pair of sporty electrolyte drinks I barely recognize. If that's not good enough for her, she can bite me.

"Hey," she calls. "What kind of toothbrush do you like?"

"What? I don't know. Whatever." It feels a little strange, rooting through a store I've smashed into in the middle of the night, flashlight in one hand and backpack full of loot in the other, but we need this stuff more than the owner does right now. Although... now that I think about it, the vast majority of what's in the store is in fact total garbage. Magazines talking about movies that'll probably never be shown again, and the celebrities in them who are now dissolved into LCL or orbiting the Earth in that red ring. Candy and chips that are probably more harmful than going hungry. Sodas that dehydrate you more than drinking nothing. Windshield wipers for cars no one will be making or driving for quite some time. Condoms that seem _really_ out of place in a world with a population of two and, presumably, no STDs. I'd trade all of this for... a tent. Or... some rope, maybe? Blankets? I guess I have no idea what we'll need.

Once I'm done scavenging for food and drink, I wander back to the counter, where Asuka is clearly already done. "I got us a bunch of stuff," she reports, bouncing a little green travel bag on the palm of one hand, "and crammed it into here so it doesn't get lost among everything else." As she finishes speaking, she tosses it at me.

I catch the thing awkwardly, nearly dropping it, then stuff it into the backpack. "Aren't you going to carry anything?" I mutter, hefting the bag back onto my shoulders. The drinks are heavy.

"I'm on _crutches_, smartass. I can barely walk."

"Fine," I sigh. "Let's go." Turning my back on her, I flip off my flashlight and step back outside. I slosh, rattle and crunch with every step.

Shortly she emerges from the store and frowns at me for some reason. I frown back.

After a moment she gives her head an imperious toss. "We need a vehicle," she decides, eyeing the two cars in the parking lot. "These don't have keys?"

I shake my head. Who would leave keys in their car here? It's too bad everyone's clothes and things didn't get left behind when they all disappeared.

"Then we'll have to check the ones in the street," she shrugs. "Come on." Without waiting for me she hobbles off the curb and into the parking lot.

I follow alongside her, silently doubting our chances of finding anything. The closest cars and trucks are all parked, and down the other way from our beach, I saw what looked like a big accident. I think all the cars that were being driven during Third Impact probably just idled along until they hit stuff, then stayed there till they ran out of gas.

This might be a long search.

Abruptly Asuka's makeshift crutch slips forward, scraping along pavement. She stumbles to one knee, arms flailing, and the steel rebar clatters loudly to the ground beside her.

One blue eye glares at me from only centimeters away before I even realize I've slid to catch her. "Hands off, perv," she hisses quietly. "If you think I'll let you cop a--"

"Oh, calm the fuck down." The words just... slip out before I can stop them, and I feel my eyes widen in surprise and maybe a little fear. I mean, I'm relieved to death that I didn't kill her, and I'm glad she's alive, but sometimes her attitude just starts to... grate on me.

It takes me a moment to realize she's as startled as I am, her eye comically wide, mouth open. After a moment she blinks, shifting her gaze to my arm, which is still around her waist.

Instantly I release her and leap to my feet, tucking thumbs under the backpack straps like a kid with no mischief on his mind. Then, after brief consideration, I shuffle slowly back, out of arm's reach.

At the motion, Asuka gives her head a little shake, then reaches to retrieve the fallen crutch. On her way back up, she gives me a confused and suspicious glance, like I've just played some trick on her and she's still trying to figure it out, but she says nothing.

We're a good five steps away before I realize I'm in the clear. I... I don't think I've ever sworn at her before, even when she deserved it, and it didn't get a reaction at all. No yelling, no threats, no shoulder-punches. Nothing.

Huh. I'll have to keep that in mind. I don't know if I could do it on purpose, though. Not convincingly.

In moments we reach the nearest car to the parking lot, an unremarkable white compact. Asuka slows and stops, watching as I try the doors, eventually smashing the window in with my flashlight. After a brief search, though, my efforts prove fruitless. "No keys," I sigh. "Nothing at all here. Unless you want a map of Nara, or a grape-scented air freshener."

As I climb out of the car, Asuka studies me briefly, lips pursed, then glances down the street. "We should search separately," she notes quietly. "I'll take the cars on this side of the road, and you can have the ones on that side."

I shrug and do as she suggests, though there are only a few in easy reach for either of us. Quickly I root through two cars and a little delivery truck, finding no keys. In the truck, however, I encounter a jug of gasoline, which sets me to thinking. I could just fill up one of these... but no, I'd still be missing the keys. And the cars that were running have probably all hit stuff and maybe been damaged, and if not, the batteries are probably dead now in any case.

Setting the spare gas back on the floor of the truck cab, I shake my head and shut the door again. Well, it's a thought, if we get lucky.

Adjusting the straps of the backpack, I make my way back to Asuka. "Nothing," I declare. "A thing of gas, and that's it."

She blinks at me, seeming to awake from a trance, then stares through the smashed window of a sports car. Leaning carefully into the vehicle, she checks the ignition and behind the visors, then quickly comes out empty-handed. "Yeah. Nothing here, too."

I hesitate, frowning at the car. "Asuka, this one was unlocked."

She follows my gaze to the power lock on the passenger's door, which shows red to say it's open. Then she shakes her head. "I'm... tired," she mutters. "This is silly. We should be doing this in the daylight anyway."

I said that in the very beginning, I recall, but I just nod. "Where do you want to sleep? Middle of the street?"

"That's idiotic," she snorts. "There could still be people, even if you don't think there are, and I don't want to get run over in my sleep. The sidewalk should be fine, though," she decides, nodding to one side. "Did you get blankets or pillows?"

"There weren't any." I have to wonder why she thinks a public sidewalk is okay to sleep on, if she's worried about other people, but I don't bother to call her on it. Instead, as she hobbles to the curb, I hop up and start kicking an area of cement free of dust and rubble, as much as I can with just my shoe. Maybe next time I'm in a store I'll get a broom.

Once I'm done she simply drops to her plugsuited backside where she stands, then sets the crutch aside with a grimace and starts working her shoulder. "Gimme the backpack," she commands. "I want some more water."

Without a word I set the thing in front of her, then stretch my back as she starts to root through it. I let her, trying not to grin at how the water is mostly at the bottom, under the more fragile and lighter stuff.

While she takes a few swallows of water, I find the stuff she picked out and paw through it. She got toothbrushes, like she said, as well as a bottle of aspirin, some bandages and antibiotic cream, and... a bunch of stuff, it looks like. Half a first aid kit, almost.

After seeing to our immediate needs, at least those not involving privacy, the two of us lie down a meter or so apart, both staring at the sky. I'm a little surprised she didn't make me go farther away, but I suppose she's just too tired to argue over it.

"The stars," she states cryptically, quietly, as I'm settling in. "I... keep thinking about how bright they are."

"I know." I squirm around briefly, trying to get comfortable, then eventually give in and tuck a water bottle under my head as a bad makeshift pillow. "No light pollution."

Asuka doesn't answer, and the silence stretches. I find I'm not sure if it's an awkward silence, whether she thinks the conversation is over or not.

Eventually, though, my curiosity gets the better of me and I clear my throat. We'll have to talk about this at some point. "Hey, Asuka?"

"Hmm."

"What... what did you see?" I lick my lips. "What do you remember?"

"You should know." Her words are clipped, her voice flat. "You were there."

Right. So... she remembers the argument in the kitchen, then. The conversation from the train too, probably.

Maybe we don't need to talk about it quite yet. Yeah. Better to... to leave that one alone, for now. Let things settle.

The night is still and stifling, both from heat and silence. As I unbutton my outer shirt for a little more air, a soft sound from the side catches my attention, and I freeze to hear it better.

Asuka is snoring. Not a full-fledged, log-sawing type of snore, but instead that distinctive style of breathing that is just heavier than normal, and tells me without a doubt that she's asleep. Already. It hasn't even been five minutes.

Smiling slightly, I finish unbuttoning my shirt and let my eyes slide shut. I'm not used to sleeping anywhere near anyone else, however, so slumber takes its time in claiming me. What rest I do get is fitful.

Once, on waking up, I can hear her sniffling.

I keep my silence. She doesn't want me to know.

The next morning, I awake before she does. It's sunny, totally cloudless, and my guess is that it's an hour or so past dawn. Sitting up, I stifle a yawn with a fist and glance around, but the city hasn't changed at all. It's still empty. Still lifeless.

A sideways glance shows me that Asuka is still asleep, curled up on her side, facing away from me. Her hair is so full of dust and dirt that it's as grey as it is red, and the plugsuit shows me the subtle bumps of her vertebrae. Those suits don't breathe very well, unless in liquid, and with it sunny today... I'm not looking forward to pleasant company.

Shaking my head, I climb to my feet and slap the dust off my back, then roam across the street to a fast food restaurant with its sign leaning drunkenly. After seeing to a mundane physical need and dumping some water over my hands, I make my way back to the sidewalk only to find that Asuka is awake.

"Where were you?" she asks accusingly while I'm still crossing the street. Her voice, at least, is free from the hoarseness that marked it yesterday.

I lift my eyebrows at this, wondering why she really needs to know. "How do you feel today? Can you stand?"

She scowls briefly, perhaps thinking to call me on my subject change, but eventually she grunts and climbs to her feet. "I'm better. I can probably walk, but not for..." She trails off, gazing to where her rebar crutch lies on the ground.

But not for too long. She didn't want to admit that aloud, did she? Why the hell not? Did she think I wouldn't know regardless? Trying not to roll my eyes, I step up the curb, grab her crutch and hand it to her. "Good. Let's start moving."

While I'm bending to gather our stuff into the backpack, I can feel her eye on me. "You know," she begins after a moment, "we really need to find a house and a car, but the house probably first. We need more clothes, and showers -- I'll bet the water is still working, even if the power is off -- and some better food. Plus, it'll probably be easier to steal a car from a house, where it's like to have both gas _and_ keys nearby."

"Oh. Good point." Zipping the backpack up, I slip it over my shoulders and straighten. In the daylight I can see farther and better, obviously, and in the distance before our current street disappears around a wooded hill, I can see it's mostly strip malls and auto shops and isolated little stores. "Up one of these side streets," I reason, pointing, "there's probably a residential district." We're in the suburbs, which fortunately should contain lots of houses. Not that there's much left of the city besides the suburbs in any case.

She sets off without waiting for me, using her former crutch like a walking stick, and though she's not moving fast, it's much better than last night. It doesn't take me long to catch up. I still slosh with every step, and it occurs to me to wonder why I felt it was necessary to grab so much water when I could probably find more just as easily anywhere.

Asuka seems happy to take the lead, and I'm more than willing to let her, since every direction from here is probably equally good. In moments we reach an intersection after walking maybe a quarter of a kilometer, but there Asuka stops, leaning tiredly on her crutch.

I say nothing, instead staring up the street, pretending she's not displaying weakness in front of me. It looks like we have only another two blocks of strip mall, and then the trees take over what I can see, but that probably means homes. Or a park, I suppose. Leaves rustle in a breeze I can't feel here, and it's nice to see something green.

"Shinji, you should probably go on ahead," she suggests, lifting her head to eye me sideways. Dull red hair hangs past her good eye, almost obscuring it. "I'll be slower, and I really hate walking in the plugsuit. If you can find a car and bring it back here to pick me up, that would be good."

I realize I'm rubbing the back of my head, and drop my hand with conscious effort. "I don't know how to drive, Asuka."

Her eye widens for a moment, but then she actually laughs. At me, of course, but it's good to see her showing some humor. "Oh, that's great," she sighs, giggling as she eyes me again. "Kaji taught me to drive when I was twelve. Look, all you do is turn on the ignition, then put it in gear. The right pedal is the accelerator and the left should be the brake."

I suck air between my teeth, considering. "Well, what if it's a manual?"

"Find another car."

"Whatever. Fine." Shaking my head, I take a step down the street, then stop, slowly turning back to face her. "What about... are... are you okay being alone?" It seems risky to ask this, since this sort of question usually sets her off, but she touched my cheek back on the beach. I... don't really know what to expect from her anymore. I wonder if she does either.

Her face tightens fractionally and she doesn't answer for a moment. "Just get a car," she snaps eventually.

Without another word I turn my back on her and start walking. This street seems like it must have been less busy than the one along the shore; I can see only one car, and it's plowed into the base of a streetlight.

Soon the street begins a gentle rise and the trees begin. It's indeed a residential district, full of smallish houses cramped fairly closely together. Choosing one at random, I approach slowly, uncertain how to break in, feeling oddly like ringing the doorbell would just be better. After a moment I sigh and slip out of the backpack, then hunt around for something heavy. I find it in the form of a greyish rock at the base of a yew tree.

With rock in hand, I stagger back to the house, remembering only now to check the door -- turns out it is locked -- then heave it through the front window. Glass shatters and the rock thumps onto the interior floor with a force I can feel outside. Uncomfortably I produce the emergency flashlight and use it to poke out the odd fragments of glass still sticking out from the bottom of the sill, then climb inside.

The house, it seems, is nothing special, just a bunch of rooms crammed together so tightly there's almost no need for a hallway. Misato's apartment was almost as big. As I step carefully around, exploring, the condition of the place begins to speak somewhat ill of its owner; dirty dishes are still piled in the sink, the traces of food on them long since molding, and there's a messy pile of mail taking up most of the counter space. Though I spot a litter box in the corner of the only bedroom, I see no sign of any cat, which makes me suddenly sad.

I also find no keys -- unsurprising, since a lot of people don't have cars -- and the clothes on the bed and floor are obviously a woman's, someone bigger than Asuka. One thing that does catch my interest, seemingly out-of-place, is a baseball bat leaning next to the front door. After a moment I take it. It'll make future break-ins easier.

Only a minute or so after entering the house I leave it again, walking out the front door. The backpack finds its way back onto my protesting shoulders, and armed with a bat I make my way to the next house and smash the windows without hesitation.

This house seems a little larger, though on closer inspection it only seems so due to a lack of clutter. An older couple lives here -- lived here -- as evidenced by the smiling pictures on the walls, and I quickly find a set of keys on a peg by the door. Smiling, I hurry back to the broken window and push the unlock button on the remote. A car parked across the streets flashes its lights once in response, and I feel like giggling.

Leaping right back out the window, I stagger a little on landing - forgot about the backpack -- but I make it over to the car in seconds. It's a small vehicle, angular and grey and very boring. An old-person car. But it's mine now. Ours.

The backpack and the bat go quickly into the back seat, and after a moment I climb into the driver's. Despite what I told Asuka I do know how cars work, even if I've never driven one myself; slipping the key into the ignition, I twist, and nearly sag with relief when the engine chugs to life. Exhaling heavily, I shift it into drive and hit the gas.

Only it doesn't shift. What the hell? Frowning, I try again, but the gear stick just doesn't budge, like there's some invisible block holding it in park. After a moment I remember to release the parking brake, but it still doesn't move.

Feeling a little more panicked, I scan quickly over the dashboard, looking for something to tell me what's going on. The radio hissing static doesn't help me concentrate, so I turn it off and chew a lip.

Long moments later I manage to try shifting while holding the brake pedal down, and that works. Crap. Asuka should have said something about that; I was about to go find another car.

Running a hand through my hair, I let up the brake and hit the gas, only to lurch back in my seat as the car jerks forward. Reflexively I hit the brake again, only to have the seat belt save me from smacking my head on the windshield.

God damn it. The car purrs idly while I calm my thundering heart.

By the time I manage to pull away from the curb and head down the street, Asuka is already halfway to the house. She watches with mixed frustration and amusement while I spend a minute or so turning the vehicle around to present the passenger's door to her.

"Nice driving, slick," she offers flippantly as she settles in to the empty seat and pulls the door closed. Dried LCL flakes off her plugsuit and onto the white seat. "Maybe tomorrow I'll show you how it's really done."

"With this thing?" I wonder, craning my neck around, but obviously there are no other cars coming. "I doubt it goes very fast."

"We'll find another car," she promises. "Something more suitable for me. Though this one should be just fine for you."

"Where do you want to go?" I manage to ask, tightly. We have a car now, but I'm not even sure how useful it is, with resources available for scavenging just about anywhere.

"I don't care. Just drive."

"What?" I glance over at her, startled. "Look, if you don't care where we go, then right here should be--"

"I said drive," she snaps, facing forward. Her bandaged eye is the one on my side; I can't read her face. "I don't want to be by the water. Just go."

My fingers tighten on the steering wheel. "Do you want to drive?"

"Go!"

Biting back a retort, I feed the car some gas and get us moving. Asuka settles into a chilly silence beside me, but I'm smart enough not to ask what the hell I did to make her mad.

The going is slow. Tokyo-3's streets are not in good repair at the moment, so often I have to edge the vehicle around holes in the pavement, and sometimes I have to backtrack or avoid whole blocks on account of accidents or downed trees blocking the way. At one point we pass a little park and I slow down to examine it, but the pond in its center looks reddish. Like the ocean. I don't need Asuka's grim scowl to tell me to keep moving.

Later, maybe half an hour after we start, she twists and fumbles for the door handle, though we're still moving. "Stop," she commands. "I need to... just stop."

Shrugging, I pull over to the curb and turn the car off. Asuka opens the door and staggers out onto somebody's lawn, hands on knees, breathing deeply like she's trying to avoid being sick.

After a moment I get out and join her, hovering uncertainly nearby. "Are you okay? Want some water or something?"

"No," she snaps. "I just need..." Pausing, she draws a deep breath, then lets it out raggedly. "Actually... yeah. That... might be nice."

Nodding, I return to the car and dig through our backpack until I find an unopened bottle of water. When I get back to her, she's standing upright again, though she looks more pale than normal. My fingers brush the bandages on her hand as I pass the bottle to her.

"Thanks," she offers halfheartedly, though her good eye cuts away from mine as she says it. Cracking and unscrewing the cap, she starts gulping the water down.

I draw back, leaning against the car. Behind me, it ticks idly as it cools, the only sound in the world beside the whisper of breeze among leaves and Asuka swallowing.

Once half the bottle is gone she stops, taking a deep breath and wiping her mouth with the back of her other hand. One blue eye blinks almost uncertainly at me. "I... I have to get out of this plugsuit," she admits quietly. "It's so hot and... it's gonna kill me if I keep this up."

I nod my understanding. "There should be plenty of clothes in these houses," I point out. We still haven't left the residential district, though the houses here are a little bigger, a little nicer. "We both need to change, really." My school uniform is ruined, from both dust and dry LCL, and it seems weird to wear it without any schools around anyway. It's not well-suited to outdoorsmanship, and I suspect there will be a fair amount of that in our future.

"Let's break into one of these," she suggests, turning around to nod at the row of tree-shaded houses behind her. "I should be able to get enough water to shower or bathe or something, and if I do... can you look around the neighborhood for clothes?" She finishes this in a high, almost pleading tone, her face open. The heat really must be getting to her.

"No problem." Meeting her gaze a moment longer, I head back to grab the bat, then trot the nearest house and open it up.

Asuka crutches in the moment I push the front door open, and I follow her to the bathroom, a fairly plush, if compact, space furnished mostly with marble. While I stand in the doorway, she lifts the handle on the faucet and waits, frowning. Her eye finds mine in the mirror and narrows.

Long, tense seconds later, the faucet splutters and chokes, spitting brown water into the sink. It runs for a time, hiccuping occasionally, and the stream gradually turns clear.

Asuka sags in visible relief. "Thank God," she mutters, turning to face me. "I'm showering. If you find clothes for me, knock on the door, then drop them on the floor inside here when I tell you you can come in. If you stay a second longer than you have to, I swear to God you're getting two centimeters of steel rebar through an eye socket."

Don't flatter yourself, brat. "I'm taking my flashlight," I decide curtly, nodding. "One should be enough for you."

"Fine." The door closes in my face.

Muttering, I heft the bat to my shoulder and make my way through a minimally-decorated but comfortable living room and step outside. For a moment I just stand there, glancing around the neighborhood, wondering at this turn of events, wondering how I turned out to enjoy breaking and entering, but I can hardly make myself care too much.

With a shrug I head towards the next house over. There are much larger concerns looming in front of me in any case.

Maybe half an hour later I find my way back to our house, only to realize Asuka is still in the bathroom. Figures. Dropping the bundle of stuff I found for myself, I knock on the door and wait.

"You can come in."

Pushing my way into the room, I toss a handful of garments onto the floor rug. "I got you clothes and underwear, but sandals instead of shoes since I didn't know what size you wore."

There's no response from the other side of the vivid-purple shower curtain. After a moment I sigh and leave, pulling the door shut behind me.

As I flop onto a bed in the largest bedroom, I find myself actually wondering if she's okay. Her discarded plugsuit was lying on the floor next to the tub, with her bandages atop it. I didn't see any blood or anything, so I'm hoping whatever wounds she had are gone -- and I don't know why they wouldn't be -- but it's unlike her not to take a crack at me in a situation like that.

Some time later, as I'm half-dozing, the bathroom door opens. I jerk back awake, glancing around the unfamiliar room briefly before rising. I need to shower too.

On reaching the bathroom door I pause with one hand on the handle. "Hey, how was the water holding out? Is there enough for me?"

"Probably." She's sprawled on a leather sofa in the living room, staring out the broken window. All I can see is the back of her head. At least her hair's back to its normal red.

Shrugging, I step into the bathroom and plant my flashlight on the counter. Asuka's left all of her stuff in here, I note with distaste, including a towel she simply dropped on top of her plugsuit; I kick it all to one side, then strip out of my own ruined clothes and turn on the water.

It's cool, I note as I step into the shower. The pleasant chill of the underground. Of course, it also smells a little like rust and fish, but not like blood, thankfully. I shower quickly, using the soap and shampoo the previous occupants of the house have unwittingly left here for us.

In ten minutes or so I step back out into the living room. "Hey, what do you want to do with your plugsuit?" It seems weird just to leave it here, but then there's no reason to carry it around.

Asuka shrugs, averting her face, staring at the back of the couch. "Whatever. I don't care."

Frowning, I study her for a moment, then shuffle around to sit on the floor in front of the couch. She seems okay, but she's still acting funny. The clothes I've gotten for her don't fit perfectly; the jeans are a little too short, and the blue Italian soccer jersey might have been made for a man, but all in all she doesn't look bad. She's still wearing her A10 clips, though. "What's wrong?"

She stiffens at the question, hugging arms tightly around her person for some reason. I say nothing, fully intending to wait her out.

Eventually she exhales sharply, turning around to stare soberly at me. I can see immediately what has her so worried, but I manage to keep the surprise from my face.

She's... not scarred, exactly, but marked. Under the bandage that used to be over her eye, she has what looks for all the world like a birthmark. Shaped like a stab wound. It covers her entire left eye and stretches towards her temple, narrowing and disappearing before it reaches her hair. If I took a spear and then somehow stabbed it into her head without killing her, and then let the wound heal for a year, and somehow made the scar tissue smooth like normal skin but pink, it would look just like what she has.

Like a birthmark.

Before I can stop myself I glance down at her right hand, seeing it clench into a fist under my attention. It's marked too, with a straight line starting between her middle knuckles and thinning as it leads partway down her arm.

Quickly I meet her gaze again, and her eyes narrow angrily, coldly. She's waiting for me to say something, _daring_ me to comment so she can unleash holy hell on me.

I'm not going to do it. I wouldn't know what to say anyway. I have to think it's something she did to herself, if probably unconsciously, and it's not like it makes her any less pretty.

The silence stretches. Leaves rustle and murmur outside.

"So... what else did you want to do today?" I ask eventually. "You might need better shoes, and I do too. And it wouldn't kill us to get more food, like you said. Apart from that, though... we might have just about everything we need, except for... a tent or something. Or a house."

A peculiar, frosty expression crosses her face at this, one I can't really read well, but after a moment she gives her head a little shake. "I... don't know," she mutters, flowing to her feet and glancing around, fists clenched. "I don't care. I want to keep moving."

"Why?" I ask slowly. "One place is as good as another. Why keep moving?"

"I... I don't know. I'll be in the car." Stalking past me without even glancing in my direction, she pushes through the front door, then slams it behind her.

As her sandaled footsteps fade towards the car, I sigh, then turn around and start collecting our few belongings. Her plugsuit and bandages I leave where they lay. I'll do what I can, but I'm not going to bend over backwards to keep her happy.


	4. Vivace Assai

Vivace Assai

The library is quiet. Quiet and dark; our flashlights don't do much to dispel all the darkness in such a big space. Book titles blur together in front of my eyes; I can't fully read half of them, and those I can read, I'm barely paying attention to.

Shinji and I haven't spoken much today. It's probably for the best, though, considering my mood. After leaving the house where we showered, I made him drive around until we found a department store to get better clothes, and ones in my size, and made for women. I'm now wearing jeans that fit better, and a tight black shirt with some logo I don't recognize on the chest, something yellow and red. I didn't want to get something that shows off my figure like this, but I couldn't stop myself; my hands were moving independently of my will when they chose what I'm wearing now. I mean, it's not slutty by any means, just tight, but I don't want to draw Shinji's attention to my stomach and chest. Or my attention either, for that matter. I know what's under the shirt.

Surprisingly for Shinji, the flip-flops he got me aren't actually too bad. Pink, and the right size. Still, they weren't practical with all the walking we're going to do, so I made him stop at a shoe store too. We both have hiking shoes now. Maybe a little overkill, but I'd rather that than the alternative, and he didn't seem to care either way.

Then I made him stop somewhere else to get more batteries. The ones we have are still fine, but I don't want to worry about having a flashlight die in the middle of a shower, or in a dark mall or library. Preparation is key, now.

Also surprisingly, what he got for himself isn't lame. It's not really _good_, but not lame. Jeans with lots of pockets, a grey-and-red Asahi t-shirt.

"Hey. How are you coming along?"

I blink away my introspection, glancing up, then down the aisle at where Shinji himself is standing with an armful of books. Concern paints his face, and his flashlight, held awkwardly, is illuminating a jauntish portion of the bookshelf next to him.

Closing my eyes momentarily, I turn away, back at the books I'm supposed to be scanning. When he doesn't move, I give my head a little shake. He hovers there a little longer, then disappears somewhere, leaving me alone again.

I have to concentrate. I don't want to stay here any longer than I have to. I'd rather find someplace where we can just... sit. Relax.

Sighing, I focus on the books in front of me, ignoring those with kanji too complicated to read in the title. I'm supposed to be looking for stuff on nature, on plants and animals; we need to know what we can eat without getting sick, assuming any flora and fauna even remain now, after the end of the world. Shinji's looking for stuff about maintaining cars, about using tools to work wood and such. I don't think either of us know what we're going to need, but I just feel like we're... flailing, or drifting. I hate not knowing things, especially when my life could depend on them. Shinji, on the other hand, didn't even see the need to come here until I mentioned it.

I... don't have a clue what's in these books. I've been here for ten minutes, doing nothing. Lips peeling back, I choose six at random and stuff them under my arm.

It doesn't take long to follow Shinji's light to find him sitting at one of the study tables, a blank computer in front of him and several others nearby. I'd like nothing more than to use one of those things, to look up what I need to know in a fraction of the time it'll take to read these books, but even if everyone else in the world walked out of the sea tonight, that wouldn't happen for quite a while.

He stands up as I emerge from the bookshelves. "Are you ready to go?" Though he meets my gaze directly, his eyes shift minutely to the side before snapping back, exactly as he's done every time we made eye contact since I took the bandage off. He's trying to brush it off, trying to spare my feelings by pretending he doesn't see the scar on my eye, or that it doesn't matter. And for him, maybe it doesn't.

He has no idea how bad it is.

"Yeah," I answer, dropping my gaze to the floor. I don't like this, but after seeing what I saw this afternoon... it puts everything in a little different light.

"Shall we go, then?" he continues. "I'm getting hungry."

"I am too. Actually, I want to drive. Gimme the keys." Striding forward, I hold a hand out to him.

Shinji frowns uncertainly, pulling the key ring from his pocket but simply bouncing it in the palm of his hand. "Are you sure? Are you strong enough?"

I lift an eyebrow and answer by swiping the keys out of his hand. "I'm fine. I was never hurt, just weak." The past day has helped greatly, the food and rest, not to mention a shower and some better shoes. Strangely, even all the walking seems to have helped somewhat.

He follows as I head out into the blinding daylight of the parking lot. Once outside I pause, squinting, while my eyes get used to the light. "Hey, where'd you put the other backpack?"

"It's in the back seat," answers Shinji. "I'll get it."

I nod, accompanying him to the car. He's been... helpful, really -- hell, he's done more than I have -- and he hasn't complained at all yet. Unless you count snapping at me once, though it's... possible I... _may_ have deserved it. Anyway, I should go easier on him. I know I should, but moving from thought to deed isn't so easy. Every time I try to start being nicer, he does or says something stupid and I just fall back to normal.

The car isn't far -- he parked in a handicapped spot -- and he reaches it before me. Setting his books on the trunk, he opens the back door and leans in, shortly coming out with the backpack we picked up at the department store earlier, an unmarked green thing. Quickly he stuffs the books he's found into it, then takes mine from my arms with an uncertain smile and does the same with them.

I watch him work, a little confused. I know he knows I'm preoccupied; he's been nicer since I got out of the shower. But in any case, here's a guy doing work for me that he doesn't have to do, and yet who, less than forty-eight hours ago, was strangling me.

Once the bag is zipped up, he tosses it back into the car, then smiles again at me, reaching back to thumb an earlobe. Silence stretches.

I'm staring, aren't I? Grimacing, I punch him in the shoulder, not too hard, then step past him to the driver's door and open it. The car starts easily, having been properly maintained by all I can tell, and Shinji quickly slides into the passenger seat.

I buckle myself in as I'm backing out of the parking spot. The mirrors are off for me too, I note, but I'll fix them as I drive. Not like there's a lot of other traffic to worry about anyway. "A house?" I suggest.

Shinji nods, staring absently out his window. "I think I might start checking for gas grills," he murmurs as I pull into the street. "It would be nice to cook something real."

As he's speaking, I slam on the gas to see what the car is capable of. Not much, as it turns out, but it does press me pleasantly back against the seat. Shinji claws at the oh-shit handles at the sudden acceleration; he drives like a grandma. "What would you even grill, though?" I wonder. "I'm sure the meat's all rotten now."

"I don't know," he admits tensely, eyeing the speedometer. "There might be vegetable gardens around, or even animals. Rabbits and stuff." He shrugs uncomfortably. "I don't know. It was just a thought."

I can't say I relish the thought of eating rabbit, but it could be worse, and I suppose we can't feast on energy bars and wasabi chips forever. Grunting an acknowledgement, I sail through an intersection and around a half-dozen crashed vehicles. This is nothing like Kaji's old BMW, but it's still fun.

As I drive, though, the scar on my right hand catches my eye, on the steering wheel as it is. It looks a lot like a birthmark, but I'm not going to kid myself. It's not one, because it wasn't there when I was born.

I'm mostly calm now, but I almost cried when I pulled the plugsuit off and saw what I look like now. My whole abdomen, from hips to breasts, is just about entirely pink, save for a few spots of my original pallor where the scars don't happen to overlap. Some, near the edges, have obviously been made by teeth, jagged monster teeth. Some, I still remember getting, as everything was going black, as I was speared to the ground with the sun in my eyes above.

I'm not an idiot. Now, at least. I know guys like me because I'm hot, and that's about it. But now I'm not. I mean... I know it's superficial to worry so much about it -- freaking out about skin defects that cause no other problems is pretty much the definition of superficial -- but I still feel like someone kicked me in the gut and made off with my wallet. I don't have much to fall back on now; a pretty woman with an attitude is made more interesting, but an ugly woman with an attitude is just a bitch.

I'm scarred. More scarred even than Misato, more scarred than anyone I've ever seen. And I don't want pity, which is all I'm likely to get for it. If Shinji tries to sugar-coat the one on my face, I'm going to punch him in the crotch. Twice.

Realistically, objectively, I know that... that whoever I end up with, eventually, isn't going to care. I mean, I wouldn't end up with him in the first place if he did, and I wouldn't be dr--

"Asuka!"

Rounding a corner, I blink at the overturned delivery truck in the street ahead, then slam on the brakes. We lurch forward as one, both caught by our seat belts; the car starts to spin, and I do my best to control it.

Shinji doesn't make a sound. Neither do I. There is only the screeching of tires.

And then shattering glass. Something punches my face, my chest; the airbag, I suppose. Something hisses, somewhere, steam escaping.

Lifting my head from the airbag, I blink groggily over it and at the crumpled front end of the car. We hit at an angle, I see; the passenger's side corner took the worst of the damage.

Passenger. Gasping, I glance at Shinji, but he's alive. He's conscious, gingerly touching his right temple. His fingers come away red with blood; they're shaking, too.

"Shinji!" I breathe, touching his shoulder. "How... is it bad? Are you okay?"

He shakes his head fuzzily, frowning at the blood on his fingers. "I'm... fine," he manages. "Just hit the window, I think."

"Let me see." The window past his head, thankfully, hasn't spiderwebbed or broken or anything.

He complies, turning his head towards me. Wide blue eyes watch me warily, measuring my reaction.

Frowning, I lean over towards him, pushing his head around to examine his injury better. It isn't too bad, I don't think, just a blunt impact that happened to split the skin. He'll have a nasty lump for a while, though. "Yeah," I agree. "You are fine. Get out, and we'll bandage you up."

He nods vaguely, then fumbles for the door handle. I think he's in shock more than he's injured, but in any case he has to kick the door to get it open.

As soon as he's out, I do likewise, then retrieve our stuff from the back seat. The crutch, I leave there. I don't really need it anymore.

I find Shinji just standing a few meters from the car, staring blankly at the wreck. I grab his arm and pull him a short distance down the street, just in case a fire starts or some such. Then I direct him to sit down on the curb.

He does so, exhaling heavily, placing his head in his hands, fingers threading through dark hair. "I've never been in an accident before, Asuka," he tells the street.

"Let's hope you have the chance to be in another one, some day," I answer absently, digging through one of the backpacks to find the first aid kit I made. My fingers are shaking too, I notice, though not as badly as his were.

In short order I manage to staunch the bleeding -- it wasn't too bad to begin with -- and sterilize the injury. Bandages follow. Shinji just sits there the whole time, staring past me at the other side of the street.

When I'm done, I sit back on my heels and eye him doubtfully. "How do you feel?"

He blinks, then offers me a self-conscious smile. "Shaky."

"Dizzy at all?" I continue. "Or can you walk?"

"I can walk," he assures me. "I doubt I have a concussion, if that's what you're wondering."

It was. I shrug. "Whatever. Let's go eat, jerk."

He snorts, reaching for the bat and one of the backpacks. I grab the other and loop it over my shoulders as I stand.

Something stops me, though, something hard on my hip. In my pocket? Reaching in, I pull out the key ring belonging to the car still steaming and dripping fifty meters away. I must have tucked it away without even thinking about it. Chewing a lip, I glance up at Shinji. I suppose we don't need it any more.

He frowns at the keys, then at me. Then at they keys again.

Oh, don't say it, you idiot. Don't say it. I'm not in a very good mood right now, and I'm feeling pretty fucking frazzled too, and if you say it, I swear I'm going to--

"If you don't mind," he sighs eventually, glancing back up at me, "I should... probably drive from now on."

I snarl silently at him, feeling my fingers curl into a fist over the keys. Yes, I get it -- the accident was my fault -- but I just bandaged him up, calmed him down, and all he can do is make fun of my driving skills? "Yeah?" I whisper, tilting my head to one side. "Well, I say, _fuck _you! Fuck your driving and fuck you!" Screaming, I twist and hurl the keys at the ruined car. They fly too far, clicking and clattering into the pavement a little ways past it.

Shinji just stares at me, bewildered. I stare back at him, breathing heavily, lips still curled back. Blood rushes in my ears, and my breath is an irregular rasp.

Eventually he just shakes his head and starts walking down the street, away from the accident. The end of the bat drags forgotten on the pavement behind him.

Exhaling sharply, I stand there for a moment, then give my head a little shake and hurry to catch up with him. As I do, however, my legs give out, depositing me on one knee beside him. Pitching forward, I catch my continuing fall with my hands, but the backpack swings off to one side, almost pulling me over. My hair hangs low enough to brush the rubble-strewn pavement.

Out of my peripheral vision I can see Shinji stopping to watch me. No helping hand this time, I see. And why would he bother? I wouldn't, in his place, not after that.

Closing my eyes, I swallow and just... sit there. Sit and breathe. A long moment passes before I feel comfortable pushing myself back up to my feet. My hands sting where little rocks bit into my skin during the fall, and slowly, almost numbly, I brush them clean.

"Where do you want to sleep?" asks Shinji flatly, without looking at me.

"Anywhere," I answer just as quietly, staring at my hands. "There are... um, houses all over."

"Yeah. We'll just... choose one, then."

"Yeah." Without further conversation we continue on down the street. The afternoon sun is low in the west, angling into my eyes, giving me a headache.

We crashed between a bank and a hardware store, and it's another two blocks before more houses appear. I was trying to get back to a nice district I saw earlier today, but it's probably a few kilometers away, still. We'll have to settle for something less, something that millions of people in the city went home to every day after work, before.

Shinji angles towards the first house we approach, and I follow him, keeping my eyes on the grass. Near the front steps he drops his backpack and hefts the bat, sizing the place up to decide which window to break.

Out of habit I try the door, and blink when it opens. Turning, I frown back at Shinji, who lowers the bat slightly as he stares past me. Then he gazes over at his backpack for a moment before retrieving it.

The inside of the house proves to be more than comfortable despite its modest size. It's extremely well-organized, for one thing, making as much use of the space as possible, and skylights in the kitchen and bathroom make it seem even larger, more airy. Everything is clean, without any photos or anything, and I find myself wondering vaguely who used to live here.

Kicking off his shoes, Shinji drops the food backpack at the end of the sofa. "You still hungry?"

"Yeah." I tug my own shoes off and make my way to the bathroom. I need to enjoy the running water while it lasts.

When I come out, Shinji is gnawing on another energy bar. I hold out my hands and he obligingly tosses me one, offering a tired smile along with it.

I try to smile back before flopping onto the couch. Sometimes I wonder how long it'll take him to ditch me. I don't think I'd put up with me, were our positions reversed.

After eating, he roots through the bag of books and pulls one out. While sunlight still spills through the windows, he chooses a rectangle of light on the floor, then sprawls out to start reading. He looks like a kid studying.

Eventually I join him, choosing one of the books on cars. I like driving them, being in them, but not really knowing how they work. I should learn, though, if it'll come in handy. And it will, if we plan to move around much.

Before I can get more than a few pages in, however, Shinji lifts his head to gaze at me with a thoughtful expression. "Asuka?"

"Yeah?"

"What do you want the rest of your life to look like?" His brows draw together as he ponders the question himself.

I stare back at him briefly, then sigh, shrugging. "I... don't really know," I admit. I've had other worries to occupy me lately. "I guess... I guess I'll wait for everyone to get back, and then... I don't know, go back to Eva. It's what I know best."

He gives me a weird look, then shakes his head. "You really think that?"

"What?" I snap. "Why? You don't think that's a good idea? I guarantee you they'll try to use them for wars and stuff, once there are enough people for it to be plausible."

"Get real, Asuka," he sighs. "You're never going to sit in an Evangelion again, even if people do come back. Mine is floating in space somewhere, yours is toast and Rei's is totally gone. There were only maybe... four people who understood how they work, and I can pretty much guarantee you three of them won't be coming back. And I doubt Maya will want to help make new ones."

I feel my mouth slowly opening as I gaze back at him. He's right. I never really... thought about it like that. In that light, it sort of makes my plans look... silly. "Well, what about you, smartass?" I counter, folding arms angrily over my chest. "What are your great plans?"

If my tone upsets him, he shows it not at all. I'm not sure if I like that, how balanced he seems now, how level. He almost never stammers anymore, either. "Well," he breathes, staring up through the window, "I'd thought about maybe studying music. Or... or politics. I kind of want to make sure there's never another NERV. No one should have to go through what we did."

I chuckle at this. "NERV is what made you what you are," I point out bluntly. His answer's way better than mine. What a jerk. "It's just that... well, you know, I'm so good at everything it's hard to choose what to go into." I try not to flinch as the words are coming out of my mouth. God damn it. This isn't helping me, and he doesn't buy it in any case. It's just... I'm not very good at thinking of this stuff on my feet, and it's easy to try to muddy the waters.

His eyes narrow, and slowly he sits upright, folding his book carefully shut without looking at it. "Asuka," he begins in tones of disbelief, "you... didn't learn anything, did you? I mean, you died, and--"

"You shut up," I hiss, leaning menacingly towards him. "You have no idea what happened to me, no idea what I went through back there."

"No, I do," he protests, meeting my gaze and holding it. "You told me, remember? You said I knew what happened because I was there."

"Look, I don't know, okay?" I'm yelling now, I realize. "Are you happy? I don't really know what happened. All I know is that you dragged me back here, and then you tried to kill me."

He shakes his head forcefully. "I didn't bring you here. I don't think I could have, anyway. Only you know the shape of your personality."

As he speaks, dreamlike memory swirls to the forefront of my mind, and my eyes widen. He's right. I was fleeing Instrumentality, trying to find something familiar, something comfortable, and then I found something both painful and warm. And it was him._ I _followed _him_ back to Earth. And then I got here and he was strangling me.

I can feel a burn starting in my eyes. At first, when I saw him in the dream-kitchen, all I could think about was how disgusting he was, how much I wanted to hurt him... and then he tried to kill me, and I realized how well I'd succeeded. It woke me up, and it shattered me. I was willing to go away just to clean things up between us. For him as much as for me. And now he's sitting here and--

"Why did you even bother to come back?" His voice is quiet, his eyes strangely cold. I've never seen him look like that before. "You're just going through the motions, trying to do the same stuff all over again. You didn't learn. Why did you come back?"

No. I want to tell him, want to explain it, but my throat isn't working. I learned. Mama loves me, and I learned about pain that can fracture hearts forever, and I wanted a chance to do it differently. But now he's staring at me like that, like he's just totally disgusted. There's no respect in his eyes, no fear, just bluntness and disgust. I've never seen that expression directed at me. Never. Especially not from him.

My vision dissolves into a hot blur. Leaping to my feet, I stumble past Shinji and head for the door, remembering only vaguely to grab my shoes. And then I'm gone, out into the street, into the heat, into the city.

Gone.


	5. Adagio

Adagio

"Asuka, no, wait! Asuka!" Stumbling to the front of the house, I catch the door with one hand as it swings slowly shut, but Asuka is already halfway down the street, even running in socks. She's fast.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I shuffle back to the couch and sink wearily into it. That... that was a mistake. I screwed up. All I wanted to do was talk to her, to put her in a situation where she'd have to answer my questions, or at least address them, without being able to resort to her usual argumentative tactics. It's just so frustrating, though. She hasn't thought about this stuff, not at all. And not through simple oversight, either; I feel like she's actively avoiding trying to think too hard.

That's not the worst part, though. It broke my heart, the way she was staring at me, eyes wide and glittering. And not with malice, either, or the usual anger. With tears.

I made her cry. _I_ made _Asuka _cry.

My own eyes burn just thinking about it, and shortly I start to sniffle. Hugging knees to my chest, I bury my head in my arms and try to subdue the tears bubbling up inside, but it doesn't help much, and in short order lines of warmth are spilling down my cheeks.

How did this even happen? How did she let me hurt her like that? I'm astonished she gives my words enough weight to let them have such an affect on her. Maybe something else is messing with her head right now. The birthmarks, maybe? Is she that worried about a little discoloration? I don't know. I don't get it.

Some time later, I scrub the back of a hand against my face and stand, blankly examining the living room of our borrowed house. The neatness of the original arrangement is somewhat sullied by the books we have spread all around, and the energy bar wrapper that Asuka never threw away. After a moment I sigh, then sprawl back on the floor.

Time passes. I try to read, but never turn a page, and I don't remember any of the text.

Once it gets dark I opt to retire rather than use battery power to keep failing to read. I don't really feel comfortable sleeping in someone else's bed, so I do the next best thing: I lift a blanket and a pillow from a linen closet, then spread them out on the living room floor after pushing our stuff out of the way. Once curled up on my side, I find my eyes staring at the wrapper Asuka left, a collection of glittering vertices in the weak moonlight. She was touching that, not long ago. She ate from that.

I close my eyes. It takes a long time to fall asleep.

The next day, after a quick shower, I redo the bandage over my temple. It's not too bad of an injury, except it hurts like hell to touch, but somehow I managed to get blood on my shirt yesterday. I'll have to get a new one, I suppose. Shouldn't be too hard.

For breakfast I feast on stale cereal I scrounged from the kitchen, with lemon sports drink in place of milk. Our food supply is running thin, and I'm pretty tired of all that stuff now anyway.

The day passes in a blur of inactivity. I end up alternating between reading, scrounging and simply lying on the half-dead grass in the front lawn, staring at the sky. The clouds, I note, are... pinkish. The whole time, I'm waiting for Asuka, but there's no sign of her. I might as well be alone in the world. Maybe I will be, from now on.

I don't want to leave. She was here with me. I have to go, though, have to move.

When the next morning rolls around, I find pen and paper, then leave a note for Asuka on the front door of the house despite my serious doubts she'll ever bother to come back and see it. In it I explain that I'm moving locations, and that somehow I'll let her know where I end up. Part of me wants to stay at the house just to be sure she can find me, but I can't stay there forever. It's starting to feel... confining, and not a little creepy, to live alone in somebody else's place, and in any case I feel like it's somehow pinning me into my current situation.

Then, with morning sunlight in my eyes, I wheel out the bicycle I found in back of the house and start biking. The breeze of my velocity feels good on my face.

In minutes I reach one of the many strip malls in this portion of the city, and there I spend a few hours gathering what I need and can carry easily with me. After leaving the note I decide it's reasonable to bring a little notebook around, and I combine several water bottles into one bigger hard-plastic container. But perhaps the most valuable resource I find is information, in the form of a beat-up old phone directory for the city, as well as a detailed map to let me find the locations mentioned therein.

It turns out the nearest outdoors store is only a few kilometers away, so I set off biking towards it, grimacing at the effort of ascending the hills in the intervening space. The map is tucked into my pocket; I anticipate using it pretty often, now.

My ride to the store turns out to take longer than expected, due to a bridge that's nothing but rubble and dust, but by midday I reach my destination. And then I actually grin at all the useful stuff there.

Quickly I've combined two backpacks into one made for hiking or something. I also, after brief consideration, lift a better bike, then find some bags that can be tied onto it. Other goods find their way into the new backpack, a sheet of tarp, a blanket, a hunting knife, a flare gun and several flares. Two pairs of walkie-talkies, each with a twenty-kilometer range, and a pile of batteries to power them. A GPS unit, which, to my surprise, still works; I suppose the satellites weren't affected at all. A little propane heater to boil water with.

A couple hours later I finally leave the store, grimacing under the weight of the new backpack. My legs are still tired from before, but it doesn't take me long to get back to the house. Once there, I leave one of the walkie-talkies there with Asuka's name taped to it. If I can think of another place she's likely to return to, I'll leave one of the other pair there, too. The beach, maybe. Not today, though.

From there I begin the long task of biking up Irie Road and out of the city. It's all uphill, and winding; soon my legs are on fire, and my throat feels like sandpaper. Frequent breaks don't help, but at least they prevent it from getting worse.

As they day wears on, the endless line of JSSDF military hardware along the sea-facing side of the road turns from something uncomfortable into something merely boring. The wind picks up during the afternoon, and with it come some heavier clouds, looking almost purple.

When the city grows sparse, giving way to mostly trees, it starts to rain. It confuses me at first, watching the droplets leave pinkish wet spots on my shirt, and then it hits me.

It's raining LCL. Raining blood. People.

Abruptly my stomach heaves, and I fall off the bike, shaking. Somehow I manage to crawl a few meters away before vomiting into the scrub along the edge of the road. With the smell of the stuff falling from the sky, I can't help but think of entry plugs, of pain and fighting and Rei and Asuka. Misato. It's stuff I haven't thought of much lately, my worries having concerned the present and future, but the LCL rain drives it all right back home. Watching Rei blow herself up. Seeing the half-skeletonized remains of Unit-02, with Asuka long since gone silent on the channels.

Eventually I subside to mere ragged coughing, wiping my mouth clean as red rain patters steadily into the cracked pavement all around me. I... I wish she hadn't gone.

Long moments later I push myself back to my feet. On trembling legs I make it back to the bike, and with a monumental effort I start riding again. The wound in my head throbs with every heartbeat. I just... just want to be done. To get somewhere and sit.

As the ascent continues, I lose track of time in a haze of pain, but eventually I spot a clearing close to the road. Turning the bike that way, I wobble over and shortly slide off it to the ground. A few dozen more steps take me to the edge of the clearing, and there I collapse.

Rain continues to hiss into the world, turning dirt into mud, soaking my clothes, but I find I'm not paying much attention to it. Instead I'm staring off over... a ridge, I guess, between pine trees, towards the city below. Precipitation fuzzes the view of more distant features, but it's not raining all that hard, so I can see most of the ruined metropolis, including the giant hole in the middle where the GeoFront -- the Black Moon -- used to be. Nothing's moving down there. Nothing at all, apart from the rain.

Tokyo-3 is nothing but a crumbling mausoleum. It's time to move on.

Maybe an hour later, the rain starts to let up and I push myself back to my feet. It doesn't take long to set up a camp of sorts, little more than the tarp spread along muddy ground and my blankets above it. Dinner consists of crackers and fake spray-cheese, washed down with water.

Once it's dusk, nearing dark, I rummage through the backpack to find my flare gun, a cool-looking thing with basically just a tube and a trigger. After fitting a flare into it, I close my eyes and fire it straight up. Like a radiant point of orange starlight it soars up, then flutters downward for a time before winking out.

Asuka knows where I am now. I wonder how she's doing.

The next day I awake bored, and stay bored all day. My legs are still sore and tired from the ride up here yesterday, so I don't move around much. Instead I read what I can, though I don't manage to learn anything useful, and when I'm not reading I'm just sitting around, enjoying the calm.

It... really, it is nice here. Pretty and quiet.

Some music wouldn't kill me, though. I think, apart from all the people I know, music is the thing I miss the most.

That night I shoot another flare into the sky. I suspect she knows where I am, but I have to make sure.

The next day my food is just about gone, so I grab the bike again and brave my way back down the hill into the city. Though, obviously, the ride down isn't bad at all, but it does get me to wondering how well the brake pads will hold up if I try to go as slow as I want to.

Once into the remaining suburbs of Tokyo-3, I navigate my way through rubble and barren streets to one of the stores I saved in the GPS unit. Before I get there, however, I see something that catches my interest, and I slow down, frowning.

Asuka's name has been spraypainted across an intersection in vivid crimson. After the last character it descends into a meandering sequence of loops and curls stretching down one street. Eventually the paint makes its way over to the sidewalk, and then to the side of an apartment building, as though she were just spraying whatever she happened to walk past without paying attention to what it was. Maybe half a block away, I can see something silver and metallic on the ground, where the paint ends. She must have run out and then dropped it.

Squeezing the brakes more firmly, I stop the bike over one of the mindless curves, then squat on my heels and touch the ground. It's not wet. How long ago did she do this? I have to assume at least an hour. Maybe a day or more.

Straightening, I cup hands to my mouth and yell down the way of the paint can. "Asuka? Are you here?" My voice echoes back to me, fractured by the hard angles of the city.

Sighing, I get back on the bike and frown at the ground a moment longer. Then I kick into motion and continue on my way.

Six blocks later, though, I stop again. Her name has been sprayed dozens of times across the cracked exterior wall of a laundromat, in all manner of sizes, shapes and styles, all red. And then, in the middle of it all, in black Roman characters so small they're almost too messy to read, my own name with a question mark after it. _Shinji?_ Runners of paint, long since dry, trickle down from it like black blood.

What... is this? A message? Did she expect me to come this way? Or is this just her venting some crazy Asuka stuff from her head, the vandalistic equivalent of muttering? Does it mean anything?

Stepping back, I glance both ways down the street, but there's nothing else in sight, no other graffiti. If this is random, how many other places must she have done it for me to have found two already? Maybe it's not random.

_Shinji?_

Something starts to... feel weird, inside. Hollow. I miss her.

Was she right? I've been wondering, from time to time. Did I need her help specifically, or anyone's, and she happened to be the closest person to ask? Misato could have helped me, probably. Hell, she even tried to, but I closed her out. And then asked Asuka, who cut my heart in half.

_Shinji?_

A long time passes before I shuffle back and get on the bike again. I see no more graffiti on the way to the store.

Once I get there, I pull the flashlight out and use it to smash my way through the glass doors, and only then employ it as its makers intended. It seems weird to walk around in a grocery store when most of the goods inside are well past the point of spoiling -- the rotten stench tells me that much, easily -- but there are valuable things here I'm not likely to find anywhere else.

Pulling my shirt up to cover my face, I wander inside, playing the light over shelves of inane goods likely never to see the light of day again. Novelty gums and candies with gaudy packaging, promising mind-blowing flavor. Glossy magazines near the checkouts, offering tips on how to please men or lose a few kilos. Dried and wilted bouquets for penitent boyfriends too lazy to go to a florist. This place is a graveyard for all the innocent but totally unnecessary elements of our culture. Lemon sours sold in bulk? I'd consider killing for a glass of milk, for a pear.

Holding my breath and moving quickly, I ignore the produce and meat sections, instead heading towards stuff that'll last a while. Noodles. Rice. Canned fruits and vegetables... and an actual can opener, after brief reflection. A pot, and some utensils. With my propane heater, I can boil water and thus have a semi-decent array of choices open to me.

I wonder how Asuka's doing. I wonder what she's found to eat.

Not long after entering the store, I leave it again. Once outside I smile and breathe deeply of the relatively-fresh air of empty Tokyo-3.

On the way out of the city, I pass the laundromat wall again, and the giant signature in the intersection. I don't stop for either.

The ride back up Irie Road seems easier this time. Either I just have less stuff, or I'm getting to be in better shape. I suppose both are possible; I doubt I've ever been as fit as I am now. Maybe there's an upside to living in an uncivilized world.

It's just getting to be dusk when I reach my makeshift campsite atop the ridge. In Misato's honor, as my first hot meal I cook instant curry, and smile as I eat it, though the expression is partially a bitter one. She was so grown up all the time; she knew exactly what she was doing. Except with Kaji, I guess. Anyway, she deserved better than to have to have to drag me around NERV on the day of Third Impact. I... hope she comes back, some day. I need to apologize.

Once I'm done eating, a little bottled water serves to rinse my pot clean. I chuckle a little at that; with everything that's happened, I still get stuck doing dishes. Another flare soars heavenward, twinkling and shining for its brief life. Yes, Asuka. I'm here.

Threading fingers behind my head, I lie back on my tarp and stare at the stars and moon above. My mom is up there somewhere, in Unit-01, floating forever. "What else is up there?" I murmur. "With you? No more Angels, I guess. I hope you don't get too lonely. I'll be thinking about you, if it helps."

Silence answers me, nothing but wind breathing through leaves and pine needles all around. "It's lonely down here, too," I continue, letting my eyes slide shut. In my mind's eye I see a face staring back at me, but it's not my mother's. "She's lonely too. If she even gets lonely. Does she? I... don't really know."

I'm talking to myself. At first I try to suppress the laughter that results from this, but who's around to judge me? I'm here, alone, and it's funny. I laugh until my voice echoes back to me from the mountains all around.


	6. Presto Agitato

Presto Agitato

As I shake the last few drops of gasoline out of the can in my hands, I can't help but wonder exactly what I'm doing, and why. Certainly there's no survival-related reason to be doing this, but I could just as easily claw my eyes out as stop. Still, why worry? It'll be fun.

When I'm satisfied the canister is empty, I toss it carelessly aside. From my pocket I draw a book of matches, a gem of a find from some crappy suburban hotel. One stick flares to life, then drops silently to the street. I scamper a few steps backward.

The gas ignites with a dull _whoosh_, roaring into an instant blaze and tracing out the lines of the characters I've poured onto the ground. Dry heat embraces me, fills my vision. In a second the parking lot is ablaze, radiating my name in fiery katakana at the sky, at everything.

As it burns, I find my eyes drawn to the tree-studded ridge where Shinji lives. It's dark now, and I can barely make the spot out, but I'll bet he can see this. Idly I think back to a college lecture, over a year ago, in which the instructor was relating the story from what I'd now call the childhood of the astrobiology field. Telescopes had just gotten good enough to see some of the surface of Mars, and a sizeable number of scientists were convinced that men were living there, brothers in our own solar system. Spectacular and harebrained plans to communicate were spawned, debated and discarded, perhaps the most memorable of which being the idea of carving enormous trenches into the Saharan Desert, a half-kilometer wide and thirty long. They'd be filled with water, and then kerosene poured atop the water and set on fire. The resulting message would burn so brightly and so epically as to be visible across space, legible to an alien on Mars with a semi-decent telescope.

That's us, Shinji. You're the Martians, and I'm Gauss, or Littrow, or whoever the hell it was. How ya doin?

Giggling, I tuck the matchbook back into my pocket and start running through the streets. Running and screaming. I don't have a baseball bat but I do have a crowbar, and I smash it into every window I pass, leaving a glittering trail of diamondlike glass in the wake of my passage.

I don't need him. This is just for fun.

In moments I reach the bottom of my new home, a blocky apartment building atop a low hill. Hopping onto a dumpster I moved earlier, I leap to catch the fire escape ladder. The palm of my right hand is stiff as I climb; the paint on it still hasn't come off yet. I wonder how much spraypainting I really did. I didn't even realize I was doing it until a couple of days ago.

Quickly the ladder brings me to metallic stairs, which I run up as fast as I can, angling back and forth across the wall of the apartment with every switchback as I ascend. After five stories I climb onto the handrail, then jump to catch the lip of the roof and pull myself up.

My home is still as I left it, a collection of blanketed peaks organized around the back of one of those exhaust vents that seem to be on top of every building around. Dropping my crowbar to the rooftop, I duck under a hanging blanket edge and curl up against the dull metal of the vent. I'm sweating, and still smiling, though I blank my face the moment I realize it.

This is my home. No one can hurt me here.

As I sit, my eyes drift through the near-darkness to all my other things, arranged with precision and care. A coil of hemp rope. Water. A knife. Two traffic cones, stacked together. Another container of gasoline. A walkie-talkie with a note on it. I've even got a sword I found from some guy's house.

Wait, traffic cones? I... don't remember getting those things. Were they here before?

_Mama loves me._

Yeah. But Mama's not here, is she? There's just Asuka. With a shake of my head I huddle in on myself; with my sweat drying, it feels almost chilly.

_This is a house. Like Mama's house._

No, it's... well, maybe a little. But there's only me now, no Mama, no Shinji. Nobody but me.

_I'll be safe here. No one can hurt me. Why did he hurt me, before?_

I don't know. Because he's an idiot? I don't care; I'm fine without him. He's a creep and a jerk and he tried to kill me and I hate him.

_I hurt him, though. I hurt him so bad, earlier. I shouldn't have done that._

Yeah, well, we all do stupid things. Shinji'll be fine in his little mountain aerie. And it's me I should be worrying about right now anyway, not him; he has too much to answer for.

I can't even remember how long it's been since I've spoken to him, or seen him at all. A week, maybe? The days have been blurring together. Every night at dusk he shoots off a flare, and every night I watch it, stopping whatever I'm doing until it flickers and disappears into the twilight. I don't really want to have to pay attention to them but I do anyway, unable to peel my eyes from those twinkling points of starlight, like a cat following the motion of a laser pointer. But I'm not a cat. I'm a person. A big girl. Mama would be proud of me.

Grabbing a crumpled blanket from one side, I flop onto my side and cover myself. With the additional covering, under a roof of similar blankets, it's warm, a cocoon. I twitch and squirm until sleep takes me.

My dreams are vague and undefined. Some feature Shinji and his hanging head and his choking hands and his questions calculated to hurt. I awake sweating, a little nauseous.

It's nothing a little running around in the sun can't fix, though. I've been running a lot lately. Actually, now that I think about it, I should get running shoes, not hiking shoes.

With that thought, I skid to a stop in the middle of a street, then turn around and start running in the other direction. Shoes are free. The crowbar is heavy, and wants to slip in my sweaty hands, so I shift it around a lot as I move.

In moments I can see a sporting goods store on the southern side of town. It's a fresh one, one I haven't hit yet, and it was farther away than a place I could have gone, but this way I get to break something new. When I'm a couple of meters from the storefront I leap into the air, screaming, and bring the crowbar smashing into one door.

Glass shatters, spraying in a vague arc onto the floor inside the store. I almost lose my balance on the landing, however, and I have to grab the doorframe to keep from tumbling onto the new mess I've created. Jagged glass remnants bite into my fingers, but it's better than getting lacerated on the floor.

Wow, that was, um... maybe I should walk next time. Heh.

Clearing my throat, I release the doorframe and wipe blood absently onto my shirt. It'll stain, but the thing is already covered in LCL from one of the times it's rained recently. Clothes don't last very long anymore.

My shoes crunch onto the broken glass, and I drop the crowbar carelessly. Then I frown at the interior of the store. Dust swirls sluggishly in the faint sunlight spilling in through the doors, but otherwise it's dark. Aisles and shelves disappear into forgotten depths towards the end of the store, like tunnels in a mine.

I forgot the flashlight. Fuck.

Well, this'll still work. Shaking my head, I trot in and start inspecting what I can see. In addition to shoes, I could probably use some new socks; what I've found so far has worn out pretty quickly. I guess manufacturers didn't really expect people to be spending all day every day on their feet, in the heat. I suppose I could grab another car, but running is somehow more... satisfying. And this way I'm not bored. I hate being bored.

Some time later, maybe after half an hour, I step out of the store with my new shoes on and my old ones discarded somewhere inside. On the sidewalk, though, I stop.

Shinji is outside, on a bike, frowning at the broken door. His hair is much messier than normal, and he's gotten some sun. He looks different now, I reflect, somehow less... repressed. Maybe living in the wild has helped him. His shirt, one of those quick-drying things an athlete might use, looks new, but mudstains cover his jeans like makeshift camouflage. The wound on his temple, from the accident, has healed.

As the silence stretches, his frown disappears. Blue eyes widen slowly as they stare at me.

I can feel my own eyes widening as I stare back, feel my mouth opening. I wasn't expecting this; fingers tighten on the crowbar. Something flutters inside me, something... panic? No. I feel trapped. Have to move.

Eventually I do take a step, but it's towards Shinji. Another.

He blinks, then smiles uncertainly. His mouth opens.

Without hesitation I spin and bolt away, arms pumping. I'm fast, and I cover ground quickly, winding between buildings so he'll have trouble following me on his bike, if he even chooses to.

I'm breathing heavily when I reach my home, panting and rasping; it's hot, with no clouds. Doubled over on the roof, I shake my head helplessly and try to catch my breath.

What was he going to say? And why did I want to listen? I shouldn't, not after the shit he said to me last time. Thinks he's clever, thinks he's got insight because he sees the surface of my behavior and assumes the depths are still the same. Thinks I haven't learned because I don't wear my heart on my sleeve. Not everyone does, Shinji, you ass. Some people don't. Some people need time to figure things out, to be able to put things into words. You had your chance, jackass. You had your chance to talk to me, to work things out, and you spat in my face.

I hate him for that.

As I stand recovering, my eyes flicker to the home I've got, just blankets stretched over pole-like things I found, sections of gutter and so on. Shinji seemed so composed, so competent, with his nice bike and a GPS display or whatever it was mounted on the handlebars. And I've been running around with no bike, and I live in a play-fort. Something a little girl might have made.

Something snaps. Screaming, I dance forward and smash the crowbar into one of the supports; it flies over, sending a few blankets flopping around, but I'm not done. Again I strike at what I've made, and again, swinging with all the strength I can muster. Once the supports are gone, the traffic cones go sailing, falling apart as they bounce. A pile of water bottles explodes in every direction. A savage dent appears in the exhaust vent. Another. A third and more, until it's almost unrecognizable, a hunchbacked mess of crumpled metal.

Then, arms quivering, I hesitate with the crowbar over the walkie-talkie, but only briefly. It's a thing tying me to him. It shatters, plastic and circuits and batteries flying halfheartedly away; the case jumps twice more under two more strikes.

I stand. The crowbar thumps to the pebbled roof surface beside my feet. I'm cold on the inside. Determined. Bending, I retrieve the knife and inspect its glittering edge. Then I run towards the fire escape stairs and hop down to the first landing. Running shoes slam into steel grating, and a shock ripples up my legs, but I don't stop moving.

Sunlight glares on sharp metal with every step as I run towards the southeast, to the road that leads up to Shinji's perch. Soon the bay is sparkling to my left, sunlight on ruby waters, but I ignore it as I run. It's just a distraction, like the abandoned military hardware streaking past me on the edge of the road.

Eventually, however, I slow to a jog, then to a walk. After a few moments of that I stop, planting fists on my knees as I draw deep rasping breaths. I'm dripping in sweat, and thirsty. I'm going to be dehydrated if I keep this up, and honestly... it's pretty far to be running there.

Dropping to my knees, I curl up in the middle of the road. Odd strands of hair are sticking to my neck, my cheeks, but it's the least of my concerns right now. I'm still breathing so hard I worry about hyperventilation.

I don't need him. I don't.

What I do need, apart from water, is a vehicle, or a bike. Not a crappy car this time either, hopefully. Something fun to drive.

After a moment I straighten to kneel on the pavement, staring absently up the road. Then, frustrated, I hurl the knife ahead, watching it skitter across the road surface.

Where the hell am I going to find a decent car, though? And realistically, what do I even need it for? I don't...

The knife skids into one of the JSSDF vehicles and bounces off, spinning to a halt a short distance away. I frown.

What about...? Nah. It wouldn't work. Would it?

Curiosity gets the better of my weariness and I stand, stepping over to the nearest of the JSSDF vehicles, a surface-to-air missile system. To my surprise, the door opens. Though I suppose that makes sense, if guys were using this stuff when Third Impact started. I grin on realizing that some of these might even have fired at me.

Shrugging, I hop into the vehicle, basically an armored Humvee fitted with the SAM system. The keys are still in the ignition, even. With a shake of my head I twist them, and the engine rumbles to life under me, a lion purring.

No way. No fucking way.

I'm not going to complain, though.

Quickly I check the rest of the controls, but it's clear that being to fire missiles is beyond me. For now. There's some separate physical authorization required that I don't have.

Not that it matters; I don't need to shoot at anything. Shifting the vehicle into gear, I back up, then grimace as a hard thunk jolts me. These guys parked pretty closely together.

Somehow I manage to un-parallel park the damn thing, then set off down the bay road. Not up it. I don't know what I was thinking with the knife; there's no need to hurt Shinji himself. I'm just... cleaning up.

The engine hiccups every now and then as I head down the road; it must have lain dormant for some time. I still want to know how long we were gone, but I suppose there's no way to find out for sure. I should just be glad the guys using this thing didn't expect to turn into LCL before they could take the keys back.

It doesn't take me long to get back into the city proper, and once I'm in I find that I'm just driving aimlessly. On spotting a convenience store, and realizing I left the crowbar on top of the apartment, I smash the doors open with the front of the truck, then back out a little bit and inspect the damage.

There isn't any. I grin.

I duck into the store just long enough to grab some more water -- this running in the heat is killer -- and then I'm back in the Humvee, slamming on the gas. It's too heavy to peel out, sadly, but it does have some kick, and shortly I'm barreling through the city's crumbling streets, clipping some parked cars and swerving narrowly around others. Sunlight glares on the hood, in a line of windshield, shifting with every turn.

Something about this, though... seems familiar. Something... I could swear I've driven here before.

_Asuka!_

I slam on the brakes just before an intersection, and the Humvee squeals into and through it, but not before I can see an accident just down one of the side streets. As soon as the truck finally skids to an angled halt, I back it up, into the intersection again, then stop, frowning off to the side.

That's it. Where I crashed before. The car is still there, accordioned into the roof of that delivery truck. It hasn't changed at all, silent, glittering in the sunlight.

After a moment I crank the wheel around and ease up on the brake, letting the truck putter its way closer to the accident. Yeah, there are the keys, still where I threw them. Over on that section of curb, past the vehicles, that's where I bandaged Shinji. I had his blood on my fingers that day. It was sunny then, too.

Still frowning, I let the Humvee idle ahead, away from the accident. In moments I stop it again, in front of the house. It still looks the same, too, unremarkable on the outside, bricks and white paint, but through the big front window I can make out the living room where we sprawled, trying to read those stupid library books.

I've been here since then, of course. I came once a few days later and watched the house for an hour from around the back of another one across the street, just to see what Shinji was doing. Once I realized he was gone I checked the place out and found his plaintive half-apologetic note and the walkie-talkie with my name on it. Then, for good measure, I scouted out the other houses nearby, just in case. In case of what, I couldn't really say, but I had the time and it seemed like a good idea. After his mention of propane grills the day of the accident, it caught my notice to find one three houses down in a place obviously inhabited previously by an Australian. NERV had scientists and techs from all over.

Letting the truck accelerate to a leisurely idle again, I rumble down the street to the house with the grill, then stop and hop out. For some reason I can't wipe the thoughtful frown off my face as I trot towards the house, then around it to the back. The grill is still there, with two white propane tanks under it. Two. Probably one for use, and a spare.

Of their own volition my hands reach out and unfasten the tubes and token restraints keeping them in place. They're heavy, I find, surprisingly heavy for being filled with a gas, albeit in liquid state, and they're unwieldy besides. I can only carry one at a time back to the Humvee.

With my new prizes I back the truck up, rolling quietly through abandoned streets until I'm about fifty meters from the accident. There I stop again and get out, wrapping both arms awkwardly around one of the tanks as I waddle towards the car Shinji found. Propping the LP tank on one knee, I fumble for the handle of one of the back doors, then pull it open. The tank then goes in, onto the floor, atop the crutch he found for me. In the interests of thoroughness I also jog over to find the keys, then toss them in for good measure.

Hmm. Propane is heavier than air. One match from my pocket sets the fabric of the car's ceiling ablaze; one twist of the knob atop the tank starts it hissing.

Closing the door most of the way again, I turn my back on it and wander over to where the two of us sat, or rather where Shinji sat and I tended to him. We were... here, I think, a little bit past a useless streetlight rising from the sidewalk. Here, his blood had dripped to the pale street, close to the corner of a blocky yellow zero painted on it. It's clean now, though, save for the faint reddish residue that's all over the city. Rain, I suppose.

Nodding, I straighten. Behind me, the ground shakes, a silent percussive strike. A blink later the car explodes.

Debris showers me as I head back to the truck; tiny pieces of glass pepper my arms, and little chunks of metal rain on my back and shoulders. The light of what I assume to be a fireball engulfing the car is enough to throw a wavering shadow of my walking form onto the sidewalk briefly, even in daylight.

When I get back into the truck, the mirrors show me nothing but black smoke and red flames roiling up from behind the overturned delivery truck, which hasn't moved much. The engine of my stolen conveyance growls to life again, then carries me two blocks ahead.

After positioning the Humvee in front of the house, pointing at it, I fold arms over the steering wheel and lean forward to examine the structure before me. It looks so ordinary, but I was going to stay there for a while. Shinji _did _stay there. He wanted me to stay too. I wanted to go, to keep moving, but he wanted to stay, like it was home. Our home.

Breeze whispers. Sunlight dances between shifting leaves. The engine idles, a content rumbling.

I snarl, shifting my foot from the brake to the gas, and the engine roars in triumphant response. The Humvee lurches forward, bumping over the curb; the house grows quickly nearer.

Just before impact I close my eyes, and then there's a massive crunch, splintering wood, twisting metal. The steering wheel thumps into my chest and stomach, making me cough. When I open my eyes again, the vehicle has shattered the beautiful front window, and a meter of it is actually inside the house.

That's not enough.

Shifting into reverse, I back up, tearing up the ground, pulling sections of siding free from the house in a cloud of dust. Then, at the curb, I put it back in drive and slam on the gas.

This time almost half the Humvee is inside the house after the crash, and I gun it a few more times, teasing the thing a little farther in. It's a struggle, because the floor of the house is a little higher than the ground, but it's close enough. Leaving the engine running, I shoulder open the door and hop to the carpet. I've driven over the couch, I see, flattening the thing into wood splinters in the process, and one thick tire is now spinning about where Shinji was lying, once.

Without wasting time I heft the second LP tank out of the back, then set it near the truck, hissing its invisible contents into the house. It's a bigger space; it'll take more time. Hmm. Do these places have natural gas? A quick check in the kitchen confirms this; it's an easy matter to set the burners on high, and with no electricity there is no flame to blow out.

Tugging a glossy black pillow from the wreckage of the couch, I use another match to light it, then toss the burning thing into the cab of the Humvee.

A weird tingling sparkles through my whole body as I hop down to the ground through the new hole in the house. I'm... what is it? Angry? Yeah, I think that's it.

Quickly I take shelter behind the only tree in the yard, then lean out to watch what I've done. This should be interes--

The ground shakes. Light. Heat. I'm floating through stars and clouds and colors. Something slams into my whole body, doubling my vision, driving breath and reason out of me in one go.

When I manage to lift my head from the pavement, half the house is on the yard instead of where it belongs, and all of it's on fire. The truck and SAM system are now nothing but blackened skeletons of metal. There's even debris in the street, I notice, along with me; not a meter from my head lies a twisted length of copper piping. The propane explosion must have set off the gas tank, then, or maybe the rockets or who knows what.

As flames and ugly greyish smoke ripple into the sky, I blink, and my jaw slowly drops open. What am I...? This was... I don't think I should have done this.

Swallowing roughly, I climb to my feet, but then instantly fall back onto my ass, clutching my right ankle. Tears burn, threatening to fall, but I fight them back.

I don't think this was what Mama wanted.

Against my will warmth spills over onto my cheeks, and I bite my lips to keep them from quivering. Holding my twisted -- sprained? broken? -- ankle, it's all I can do to rock back and forth and try to keep my crying quiet. That... could have been my home.

Unbidden, my eyes slide to the south and east, towards the ridge, but I can't see it from here anyway. I've managed to destroy everything connecting Shinji to me, but somehow it just feels... I don't know.

I'm such an idiot. It's not _stuff _that keeps him always in the forefront of my thoughts. Not radios or cars or houses.

I... I wish he were here. I wish he could help me up, give me a hand. Get me to where I could rest. I want to make some smartass comment about him and have him yell back.

Blinded by tears, I roll over onto my stomach and climb to hands and knees. Pain stabs into my exposed flesh from little bits of sharp metal on the ground, but I try not to think about it too much, and instead start crawling away.


	7. Tempo Commodo

Tempo Commodo

It's morning. Cloudy, warm. I'm sitting on a fallen tree trunk I've rolled over near my campsite, and my shoes make absent designs in the dirt in front of me.

Should I start building my own house? It would beat sleeping in the elements, certainly, though I do kind of enjoy falling asleep under the stars. It's just waking to up to the occasional LCL rainshower that gets me.

No, I should probably just leave well enough alone, at least for now. Plus, how would I even build one? I doubt I'm strong enough to move a lot of heavy stuff around, and in any case I don't know anything about construction. There might be lightweight materials in the city, though, and possibly some how-to books or something. I guess it's an option I can keep open, and if all else fails I can just get a tent.

My foot pauses on the ground and I blink. Without thinking, I've sketched out the rough form of a feminine face, with lines of long hair and a smug grin.

With a sigh I erase the image, kicking dirt back into a virgin state. It's been weeks. Weeks since we split up. A month, maybe? I don't really know. I had twelve flares originally, and I didn't run out until after I saw her at that store, and that was... over a week ago. So I guess only three weeks or so.

It's long enough. More than long enough. I'm half-tempted to ride down there now and confront her, but she ran away last time only after _I_ made a move to talk. So it has to be on her terms, I guess, or there will be nothing at all.

Wind stirs briefly, rippling my shirt and hair, stirring leaves. Should I get more flares? No, she knows where I am.

Despite the unbroken shell of clouds above, it's hot and, if anything, more humid than usual. My shirt clings uncomfortably to me, and I feel like I'm sweating through my jeans.

There's a song in my head, too. I don't know the name of it, but it's classical, and the composer is... American or British, I think. The music sounds Arabic to me, though. I like it because it's heavy on the cello.

I'm humming it even now, I realize. I've been doing that a lot lately.

Standing suddenly, I stretch, then frown down at the dead city below. As part of my scavenging routine, I've started looking for music I can use. Tokyo-3, it seems, is abounding with portable players of all types, but the only one I've found with any battery power remaining at all was full of Korean pop. Which is okay, but it's not classical. Not the song I have in my head.

This is killing me. I'm sure the name of the composer or the piece will pop randomly into my head at some point, but it won't make the song go away.

"I could play it," I realize aloud, still gazing at the city. "If I had a cello. That would be a pain, though, dragging one up here."

Shaking my head, I glance once again at the meager pile of my belongings. I've long since read all the books, and learned almost nothing useful from them. Maybe I should read them again, to pass the time. Or rip out the pages and make paper planes. Maybe I could find an origami book at the library.

Laughing, I climb on top of my log, then shout wordlessly into the silence. My voice echoes back to me, through the breeze, through the trees. It just seems funny that, if no one else comes back, something like origami might survive Third Impact, not for any practical or cultural reasons, but because I was bored.

Sweat trickles into my eyes as I stand there, and I blink it away irritably. This is bugging the hell out of me. I can't wipe the perspiration away because my arm is just as sweaty as my forehead, and the shirt isn't helping matters.

Fuck it. Hopping down from the log, I wrestle myself out of the shirt, then throw it to the ground. After a moment I do the same with my pants, boxers, shoes and socks.

A breeze carries some measure of cool to my exposed skin, and I smile. This is much better.

Briefly rooting around in the backpack, I find a package of dried fruit and dump some into my hand. Then, munching on an apricot, I wander over towards the road, bored, restless. It remains just I've left it, of course, lined with military vehicles, webbed with the occasional crack, and totally motionless.

Closing a fist over my food, I climb atop the hood of one of the missile launchers, then gaze out over the water. I can see for... I don't even know how far from up here, but out in the distance the sea and clouds merge into a sort of dusty-pink twilight. I can also see the stone remains of Rei's head, still gazing in eternal startlement at nothing at all.

"It's hot out," I observe, popping a sliver of dried banana into my mouth. "And I'm naked." Nothing answers me but the wind and the distant waves below.

As I stand sightseeing, the gentle white noise of leaves and pine needles creates more noise in my head, or rather, music. The song is back now, or maybe it never left, but I can hear it with perfect clarity as though the orchestra were right in front of me. Every draw of a bow across strings, every bold stab of brass, I hear. The part that's in my head is a fugue, actually, with the cello going first, followed by viola, violin and then trumpet. Seven measures, twenty-eight beats of each, before the next one jumps in.

Tossing the last of the fruit into my mouth, mostly to free my hands, I find myself gauging the trees dotting the steep slope below. Let's see. The cellos would be over here, these pines to my right; the other strings would follow leftward from there, with the trumpet types... well, I guess there's not enough room under the bluff for them. They can be where the rocks meet the water.

Wind swirls; leaves dance. The music starts again in my head.

"Da da da da, da da-da-daaa!" I'm not even aware I'm shouting until halfway through the first phrase; my hands move on their own, conducting an empty orchestra. "Da da da-da-da, daaa daaa!" The sequence repeats, with the violas coming in on the last cello note.

By the times the violins join, I can hear the music so clearly it hurts; clutching at my head, I shout the song as loud as I can, desperate to challenge the silence. When it's time for the trumpets, I can also hear drums, which is odd, because there aren't any in this part of the piece. An explanation surfaces in a few moments, however, when I realize I'm jumping up and down on the hood of the truck.

And then I stop. The music disappears, leaving only wind and distant waves.

I'm... going a little nuts, aren't I?

Swallowing, I hop down from the SAM, then scamper back to my clothes, covering myself the whole time. What the hell am I doing running around naked? My God.

Once I have pants on, I pause with my shirt in my hands, then stride to the edge of the ridge and scowl down at the city. It's her fault I'm going crazy. I haven't spoken to another human being in weeks, and it's totally her doing.

Snarling, I hurl my shirt over the edge, towards the trees a hundred meters or so below. "What the hell is _wrong_ with you?" My voice cracks as I shout, or scream. "Do you _like _being alone? Do you think I do? What the fuck is your problem?" Descending into a wordless growling, I spin and find the nearest thing, which happens to be my water jug. Snatching it from where it lies, I unscrew the top and start dumping its contents out over the edge, shaking it to make it empty faster so that I can throw it, and then it occurs to me that this is pretty stupid.

With an awkward grimace I fumble the jug back to my chest, upright, then blink at it. This is silly. I... I need to move, to do something. I feel like I'm ready to... punch rocks or headbutt trees. And I need more water now in any case.

Sighing, I find the rest of my clothes and another shirt, actually an undershirt, sleeveless and white. Why not? It's hot out. With one hand I lift my bike from the mud and swing a leg over it, then click over to my backpack and retrieve it.

And then I'm off, down the slope, steering by balance alone. The breeze feels nice.

I wonder how she's doing. Probably not very well. Though I guess it's been a while since I've seen a fire or an explosion in the city, so... who knows? Eventually I cruise past the missing Humvee in the abandoned JSSDF battery and wonder, not for the first time, what the hell she did with it. It's good she hasn't figured out how to shoot the missiles yet.

Before long I'm coasting into the suburbs, threading my way through highways and ramps that merge and split in slow motion around me, and shortly after that I'm in a familiar residential district; I've done a fair amount of looting here. Letting the bike click to a gradual stop in a parking lot, I slide off it just long enough to fill up on water from inside, and then I keep moving, this time to houses.

I don't spend much time looting, but it's a good harvest today nevertheless. When I set off back up the mountain, I've got some more clothes, a nice new axe, a cigarette lighter and a second flashlight, just in case.

I barely even notice the ride up to my ridge anymore. When I get there, though, I still feel twitchy. Letting the bike fall back into its parking space near a reddish rock, I just stand motionless for a moment, then take the axe and stride off into the trees.

There's a dead pine tree not too far away from my stuff, skeletal but still standing, an arrow pointing at the absent sun. Taking a deep breath, I pause to wipe sweaty hands onto my jeans, then heft the axe and start chopping.

Slowly daylight fades. A pile of wood pieces grows.

When it's finally dark, I've managed to chop the tree down and hack part of it into arm-sized chunks of firewood. My hands are blistered but whole, and the way back to my stuff is thick with shadows and hidden obstacles. Nevertheless, it only takes me about fifteen minutes to get a fire started, courtesy of a couple dozen pages of the basic automotive care guide. This is about all it's good for, now.

Exhaling heavily, I drop to sit on my log-bench. I'm sore all over, but... that helped. I doubt cutting down trees will be a long-term solution to solitude, but it worked tonight.

Later, sprawled on my blanket, I watch sparks drift and dance up to the cloudy heavens above. This is nice, but if the rest of life is like this... it's going to suck. Silence is pleasant, but only as a respite from noise.

Eventually, while the fire is still going, I curl up and close my eyes. Crackling wood lulls me to sleep.

At some point in the night, however, I stir, groggy and confused. Lifting my head, I blink around for a moment before spotting what woke me.

Asuka is here. Just on the other side of the firepit, arms folded across her chest, scowling at me. Red coals throw just enough feeble light to trace out her figure in stark terms, warm fiery outlines.

I blink again, stifling a yawn with my fist, and stare back at her. Am I dreaming this? I think I was dreaming about... was it her? Or is it morning? No, it's dark. The coals are still warm on my face.

She just stands there, not moving a muscle, almost glaring. Eventually I glare back. How long has she been there, not saying anything? And why the hell is she so mad?

Something pops softly among the coals. Leaves rustle in trees lost to darkness.

Shrugging irritably, I fall back to the ground, tugging the blankets around me. As soon as my eyes are closed I succumb to sleep once again.

This time my dreams are warm. Sunshine, blue seas, not red ones. Laughter and music and just... warmth.

When morning rolls around I awake with a jerk, sitting upright, staring all around the campsite in confusion. Was... she was here, wasn't she? She came back. And I shut her out. Granted, I was sleepy and confused, and a little grumpy, but that... I'm not going to get another chance, am I? Crap.

Swallowing against a sudden burning in my eyes, I reach a hand up to rub my face, but something tickles my nose. I freeze for a moment, then pull my hand away and frown at it.

There's a long red hair hooked through my fingers. And... the blankets next to me have been flattened, but I wasn't sleeping there. And I smell like Asuka.

Fuck.

Letting my hand drop back to my lap, I peer all around, looking for any sign of her, but she's gone. I'm alone again.

Last night I wasn't even thinking about how long she'd been gone, like I'd forgotten that part totally; instead I was just mad at her for glaring at me in my sleep when I hadn't done anything. But even so... she slept next to me, without my consent. She _stole_ affection from me. I didn't even know you could do that.

This is a little... I feel like a... like a prostitute. Except for cuddling instead of sex, and I don't get paid.

What the hell? Throwing my blanket aside, I rise and run barefooted over to the road, but there's no sign of her. She's been gone for a while, I guess.

"Fuck! Asuka? Are you here?" I cup hands to my mouth to shout, and though my voice bounces faintly back to me from neighboring peaks, there is no response from her.

Turning, I kick helplessly at the dirt.


	8. Tranquillo E Dolce

Tranquillo E Dolce

As I walk down Irie Road, it starts to rain. For once I barely even notice how it smells.

I'm exhausted. I didn't sleep at all last night. For one thing, it took longer to reach the ridge on foot than I expected -- I see why he has a bike -- but then while I was lying there with him I couldn't fall asleep.

It was totally within his rights to glare at me, I suppose. Hell, I was probably giving him a look like that too. But as angry as he was, or seemed, as soon as he was asleep, he got... sweet. He rolled to his side and threw an arm over my stomach, threaded fingers through my hair. Every now and then, when he stirred, he would just squeeze me for no reason.

I didn't sleep because I spent all night trying not to cry.

This is a new thing for me. I don't entirely get it.

I wonder if he'd be like that to anyone, or just me. Probably anyone, I suppose; if he had to beg me for emotional intimacy during Instrumentality just because I happened to be there, he's likely to be just as undiscriminating in giving affection as well. So what does that make me? In retrospect I guess I... used him, last night, but now I'm not so certain I came out ahead on that deal.

My right ankle still throbs with every step. I didn't break it, though, and if I sprained it, it hasn't gotten in my way except to hurt. My hands have mostly healed again, at least, though they're still sore in places.

I still don't really know why I did that, why I decided to head up there. I guess I had to see him. I'm still mad for the shit he said to me right before I left, but it's sort of like... inertia; that's the last significant interaction I had with him, so that's what's stuck in my head. And it's not like I don't have other reasons to be pissed off at him. In any case, though, I don't think it's good for me to be alone all the time, and probably not him either, but it would be too humiliating just to show back up and offer some lame apology for my absence. Oh, hey, Shinji. Sorry I've been gone for the better part of a month and stuff. Got any sunscreen? I'm running out.

It's stupid, I know, but there it is. He's in my head, and though I've tried everything I can think of to get him out, he's still there.

I wonder... would Kaji have been that tender? I have a hard time believing so. Funny how a girl's priorities can change over time.

Eventually, some time around midmorning, I make it to my new home. The old one hurt too much to get up to, with my bum ankle, so instead I'm now living in a storage garage in the same area of the city. It keeps me dry from the rain, and the cement is actually slightly cool. Once there I heave open the door, then flop to a pile of towels I keep just inside for rainy days. I'm beat, but it doesn't take too much energy to rummage through my things for an electrolyte drink and a half-eaten jar of applesauce. This is probably the last time I should eat from it, though; stuff like that doesn't stay good for long now, with no refrigerators.

While I eat, I stare absently out into the steel-and-concrete remains of the city, half-hidden by a haze of falling rain. Rain, and tiny tiny bits of dissolved people.

Shortly I rise again on watery legs and shut the door most of the way, allowing only a bar of greyish light to filter in from outside. Then, after stripping down to my underwear, I drop to a mattress I scavenged from a nearby apartment and fall instantly asleep.

When I awake later, it's no longer raining and I'm still tired. Moving mechanically, I dress and slip into shoes, then grab my trusty crowbar and head out into the city. Reddish puddles all around reflect a leaden sky above.

Shinji's idea of having a bike is a good one, if I'm going to be heading up to the ridge again, so that's my first priority today. After maybe an hour I manage to find a decent one just lying on the sidewalk, as though its rider was absorbed into Instrumentality while still moving. It's even red, too.

After picking the bike up and brushing dust and flaked LCL off of it, I ride it in a few brief circles in the street, just to make sure it's comfortable. It is.

From there I cruise the streets briefly, weaving around just for fun. I wish my hair would fly back behind me, but it's kind of stringy now. Living like a bum hasn't been good for it.

With that thought in mind, when I finally stop riding and get back to looting, I head straight for the bathroom in the first house I check. Fortunately it seems a woman lived here, because there's good stuff in little bottles all over the place. A shower and some decent conditioner leaves me in a slightly better mood. Even seeing my scars doesn't really bug me anymore; my original beauty is just... gone, so there's no need to worry about it.

As soon as I step out the bathroom and start scavenging, however, my eyes fall upon a book lying open on the floor in one bedroom. A photo album. Frowning, I shuffle over there, then sit cross-legged on the floor next to it.

Flipping back to the beginning, I find myself staring down at a Japanese woman in a hospital bed, smiling tiredly at the camera as she holds a newborn baby. Feeling my frown deepen, I flip the page. And then, after a moment, I flip the next.

The pictures tell me she's a single mother, and the baby is a girl. Almost every shot is of the kid, or with the kid, or of the woman and a couple of men I assume to be her brothers, since all three have the same eyebrows. For whatever reason, some of the pictures jump out at me. The woman in the crisp uniform of a rank-and-file NERV tech, squinting against the sun as she smiles, and the wind pulls her hair almost sideways. The daughter as a toddler in a blue dress, pointing a chubby finger at a a sleeping dog. Both mother and daughter asleep on a couch, covered by a blanket patterned with fuzzy little chicks and kittens.

The album is less than half full.

It's never occurred to me to think about this, but I suppose Third Impact swept up the very young along with everyone else. Kids too young to know what was going on. Are any of them strong enough to come back here on their own? Or will this photo album stay as it is now when the mother gets back? Maybe get tucked away somewhere and wept over from time to time?

I used to loathe people like this, people lacking genius and with no ambitions in life save for to spend time with family. How unoriginal, how forgettable. No vision. But now, I feel... not jealous, but just... sad. Sad and tired. I want to take the album with me, but... I can't. It's not mine.

It's over an hour before I move at all. The photo album goes carefully, gently back on the floor.

After leaving the house, I spend the next hour feeling strangely subdued as I break into other dwellings in the neighborhood. Instead of smashing windows, this time I just pry doors open, causing as little damage as I can. Which makes sense, really, since that's how the crowbar is supposed to be used.

When it gets to be around dusk, I find my way back to my new home and drop off the goods I've looted, perhaps the most important of which is a little battery-powered fan. It'll be nice, but I'd kill for air conditioning. Though... now that I think about it, there's no reason I couldn't find a generator and get a unit working. Eventually.

Quickly I find some food and consume it, then hop back on the bike and set off up the hill. The ride is a little tiring, and eventually my ass and most of my back get sore, but by that point I'm almost up there. It turns out Shinji was kind enough to light a fire for me again, so it's an easy matter to pinpoint where he is, once I get close enough to see evidence of warm light through the trees.

I stop my bike some distance from his little campsite, then heel the kickstand down and slide to my feet. My legs hurt, and it feels like the ground is somehow too soft, so for a moment I just stand in place and listen. All I can hear is the breeze rustling through trees, but that doesn't mean he's asleep. It's two hours past dusk, but that doesn't mean anything with him.

When I'm confident he's not coming out to the road to investigate, I stealth forward, slipping between the trees, trying to keep my footsteps to patches of ground free of leaves, needles and twigs. Shortly I pause behind the bristling body of a pine tree and peer around it. Sure enough, he's asleep, lying on his side, facing the fire, which has dwindled to a pile of glowing red, decorated here and there with little candle-like orange flames. I usually think of sleeping people as peaceful, but Shinji looks... a little pissed-off. I wonder what he's dreaming about.

Slowly I edge forward, ghosting towards the fire, to the spot where I stood last night. Even with the fire on its way out, it's warm here, dry and comfortable. A good place to sleep.

Moments pass. The fire crackles, a quiet murmur.

I shouldn't. I know I shouldn't. I don't really think he wants me to, but despite that, it would help me. Help both of us. You don't share Instrumentality with somebody without learning a thing or two about him, and I know Shinji's probably losing it up here alone. He's been alone his whole life, but even that was certainly better for him than this. It probably took everything he had to ask me for help, back in the kitchen.

As though my thoughts are noise, his eyes slide slowly open, then blink and regard me blankly. Red embers shift and pulse in the shadow pools staring back at me. Whatever's in his face, I can't read it at all.

Eventually he sighs, eyes closing, and rolls to his back; blankets shift and whisper, following his motion. A scowl re-forms on his face.

I hesitate, frowning, uncertain if this is permission or negation. Or if he just doesn't care. I could just ask him, could just go over there now, but he's still awake and I don't think I could take it if he refused me. Not at this point.

I wait. Again. Eventually his breathing changes, becoming almost snore-like.

Wilting somewhat at my cowardice, I sneak forward, around the fire, and slip out of my shoes and socks. Then, lifting the edge of his blanket delicately, I slide in. It's still warm in the space he just vacated, though being between the fire and Shinji himself has certainly helped with that.

Letting my eyes close, I exhale slowly. Shinji doesn't move behind me; his wrist is actually in contact with me, and his shoulder, but the poor idiot has no idea.

Before long, however, he shifts, rolling back towards me, sliding an arm around my middle for all the world like we've been doing this forever instead of for two nights. After a moment his forehead thumps into my back.

Swallowing, I rest fingertips gently on his forearm. This is wrong. I know it's wrong, but it's so... comfortable. He should be enjoying this too, really. It's warm having him there, having his arm around me, and part of me wants nothing more than to snuggle back into him and sleep and dream of a different world. But the rest of me advises caution, warns quietly that I shouldn't be here when he wakes. Better to have peace in the night than acrimony in the morning. As cheap as it is. At least this way we're not totally alone all the time.

Letting my eyes drift back open, I gaze at the glowing embers ahead. There's just something about the night, I guess. I wouldn't do this much in the day.

Abruptly he stirs, murmuring something indistinct behind me, and his arm twitches. He's waking up.

Before I know what I'm doing, my thumb is stroking his arm, trying to will words into his mind. Shhh. It's okay, Shinji. It's me. You know me. You can be a jerk, but I don't hate you, not really. I am not the jagged sum of my actions towards you, or if I am, at least you know some of why I'm like that now. Nobody else does, not like you do.

It's strange, me trying to soothe him. I feel like our roles are reversed.

Eventually he relaxes again, and his breath falls back into the unmindful rhythm of the slumbering. I stop stroking his arm and instead just touch it. Touch skin. Human skin.

Tonight is... different from last night. Then, he smelled like sweat, like smoke and pine sap. Almost manly. Tonight he smells more like blood, though that's probably due to the rain, and maybe a little like... grapes? I wonder what he had that smells like that. Regardless, though, it's still Shinji, just another part of him.

Again, I can't sleep. Again, his unwitting affection drags out my unease to counter the peace he gives me.

I leave an hour before dawn, slipping carefully out of the blankets and into my shoes. Sparing him one last confused frown, I wait a moment, then edge through the trees to where I left my bike.

The ride back down the road is an easy one, even in the dark. Once into the city, I coast through shadowed intersections and motionless streets, passing several places I vandalized a couple of weeks ago. I feel a little embarrassed about that, now.

Once back to my place, it's just getting light out. A good time to go to sleep, then. If I keep this up, I'll be nocturnal.

I don't even know what time it is when I awake again, but it's still light. With no real need to scavenge today, instead I ride around for a couple of hours, just looking for interesting stuff. Parks, mostly. There are two near my garage, it seems, one that's little more than a playground and an overgrown soccer field, and one that has a couple of overgrown flower gardens surrounding a reddish pond. I think I prefer the second, despite the water.

Was he right? I wonder. I did learn stuff, didn't I? I'm certainly not the same person I was a month or two ago.

While the sun is still setting, I grab a quick dinner and then set off up the hill again. I feel like an addict; I can't even contemplate not going up there. As I muscle my way up Irie Road, dusk starts falling, and the clouds above finally begin to break up.

On reaching the ridge I once again stop the bike and just listen. I think I've gotten here earlier than last night, but it's still dark, and I still don't hear anything.

With a shrug I leave the bike standing and sneak through the trees separating the campsite from the road. Then, on rounding the big pine, I stop.

Shinji's awake. In bed, granted, but obviously awake and staring at me.

I swallow, suddenly uncertain. His fire is still crackling steadily away in the firepit between us, giving the area more light than in previous nights, and the illumination shows me his face as cautious as mine, chewing a lip.

I have to wait. I... can't force him into anything.

Long moments stretch even longer while we match gazes. Gradually the conflict on his face becomes more apparent, but then, to my surprise, he shakes his head. In the time it takes him to roll to his other side, facing away from me, I can see an expression of clear pain on his face, as though this is a choice he's not totally happy with.

I can feel my mouth open slightly at his refusal, feel my eyes blink a few times. My heart thuds once, heavily, then resumes its normal course.

The fire crackles away, throwing warm light onto his motionless back.

Swallowing again, I turn, then shuffle back towards my bike. A single backwards glance confirms that he still hasn't moved.

Once onto my bike, I coast down the hill in silent moonlight. Or drift, really. I... can't believe he did that to me.

But why not, really? I knew it was wrong. Hell, it's not altogether different from what I told him during Instrumentality: if I can't have all of you, I don't want you at all. I was half-teasing when I said it, but it was also true; I didn't want anything to do with a Shinji who came to me just when he needed to be put back together. I had, and still have, neither the skill, patience nor desire for that. It was partly impatience speaking, too; if you want me, just come out and fucking say so, you wimp. And now, here he is, saying the same thing back to me. Or at least the latter half. _I don't want you at all. Fucking wimp. __  
_

My teeth start to grind of their own accord as I angle into the night-cloaked city proper. So what about me, now? Where does this leave me? There's something in my head that can't let go of him, and my one avenue of contact with him has now been severed. Is there another one I can find, or make up? Or should I just find someone else? Or_ wait for_ someone else to come back at all? If anyone will.

Who would even fit the bill, though? Kaji? No, I still don't think he'd be the type. Maybe for Don Juan seductions, but not simple affection, and probably neither with me. Which... really, now that I think about it... is probably good. So in that case, how about... no, I... I guess I don't really know any other guys that well, do I? And I'm not going to cuddle at night with a girl.

So that leaves me Shinji. Nobody else. And, as I think about it, I don't even want it from anyone else; there's nobody from whom that kind of affection would carry anywhere near the same significance it would from him. I mean, he knows better than anyone else how unpleasant I can be, so if he can still feel it in him to cuddle with me, honestly, then that would... mean a lot.

I need him. I need Shinji. And he just shut me down.

I squeeze the bike's brakes so hard the tires skid to a dramatic halt. Then, leaping groundward, I grab the frame, lift it over my head and hurl it with all my strength at at the nearest window. "God _damn it!_"

With a fantastic crash, the bike tumbles to the floor inside a little consumer gadgets shop, along with lots of broken glass and a random collection of window merchandise. Growling, I leap after it into moonlit darkness, ignoring the jolt of pain from my still-mending ankle on the landing. My hands find a section of steel mesh, the kind used to hold up package hooks, and without a thought it goes sailing through the store, crunching into a big-screen television. "God damn it! Shinji!" I'm shrieking, I realize, not just shouting, but I don't care. A sweep of one hand sends a stack of cell-phone packages flying; an overhead throw shatters a stereo receiver against the wall.

As I'm jumping up and down on a handful of novelty remote-control vehicles, however, I slow, then eventually stop with a sigh. It's just... not the same anymore. And, frankly, this isn't going to help anything.

Shaking my head, I gingerly lift my bike back up from the wreckage, pausing to pluck a shard of glass from where it had gotten stuck in the seat. That would not have been comfortable.

Climbing back out the windows proves to be something of a chore, but shortly I'm pedaling absently through the moonlit streets again. As I ride, as usual my eyes are drawn to the ridge above. It's too late for his fire still to be visible, but I know where it is, where he is. Sleeping without me. As is his right.

But then, this is nothing more than a minor setback. I'm Asuka Langley Sohryu. All I need is a change of plans.

* * *

_A/N: At Daetor's request, the soundtrack to Shinji's madness in the previous chapter is the finale of Symphony No. 22, Op. 236, "City of Light," by Alan Hovhaness. I didn't mention it before because the content of the song doesn't really relate to the story in any meaningful way, but I figured it's something Shinji might like. Plus it's easy to get stuck in your head._


	9. Allegretto Scherzando

Allegretto Scherzando

I shouldn't have turned her away.

It's morning again, and all I can do is lie here on my back, staring at the clear sky above, shaking my head. The latest humid streak appears to have moved on, leaving it merely hot, though so early in the day it's almost refreshingly cool.

I screwed up. I was just... I just didn't want her to use me anymore, and I wanted her to know that. For once I was going to be strong, to deny her something she was trying to gain by bending the rules, just to prove a point. Even if it was pleasant for me in the meantime. I never thought she'd be the type to want something like that, especially with me, so it was hard to say no; for once, she was... nice. Even if we didn't say anything. Maybe _because _we didn't say anything.

But now I feel like an ass. When I rolled over, away from her, I figured she'd just get pissed and stalk back to her bike, maybe bitching me out or something first. But that's not what happened. Instead it took her a long time to move, and when she did, her footsteps were slow and quiet.

She wasn't mad. She was hurt.

When I realized that, it suddenly threw a new light on everything. As hard as it was for me to say no to her, it must have been nothing compared to difficult it was for her to come up here in the first place. She was extending me a truce. She's probably too proud just to come up and apologize, or ask for my apology or whatever it is she wants, so what she did was just to forego speaking altogether. If I'd been more receptive, I bet she would have stayed around when morning came, and things would have gone back to normal. Or something like normal.

Still, there was no need for subterfuge. Does she think that after all the stuff we've been through after Third Impact, followed by all that time alone, that if she'd asked to hang out I would have told her to screw off? If she wanted my affection like that, she could've asked, and I would have given it to her.

Oh my God. I _would_ have given it to her.

Leaves dance above me in the moment it takes me to close my gaping mouth. So... I wonder if that means I like her. It seems like sort of a stupid question, especially now, but then again it should be answered. I mean, yeah, before I knew anything about her, I thought she was hot, and really I still do, but it's way more than that. There are so many things binding us together now that a relationship with anyone else would just seem shallow in comparison.

But maybe I don't want relationships. Maybe I just want friendship. Understanding. I haven't had a lot of that either.

Not like it matters anyway. I'm getting a little ahead of myself, I suppose.

With a sigh I sit up, throwing my blankets aside. I have stuff to do, and there's no reason I can't think and work at the same time.

Even without rushing it doesn't take me long to dress, and afterwards I spend a few moments munching on dried fruit to take the edge off my hunger. While eating I find my eyes drifting towards the city below, looking so peaceful in the sunlight. Peaceful and empty.

In moments I'm on my bike and sailing down the hill. It's a pleasant ride this morning, bordering on chilly, but I'm trying to enjoy it while I can. It won't be long until the heat returns or a storm sweeps in.

I should apologize. I'm not sure I could find her, though, if I went looking.

Today, I've decided, is a day for clothes scavenging. As such I angle towards one of the department stores in this part of town, since finding clothes in my size in houses or apartments is too unreliable, and half of what I do find that fits is actually for women. Plus, if I'm just going to be throwing this stuff away after a week or less, I may as well wear something that no one has grown attached to.

When I roll into the parking lot, it's getting hot out again. With a shake of my head I step through the shattered doors -- I've been here before, and she probably has too -- and flip on my flashlight. A cone of thin illumination plays over still shelves as I wave it around; gaudy signs jump out at me, promising great deals on some winter special the place must have been having. It smells dusty in here now, like concrete and darkness. It didn't, always.

Most of the sale signs have sparkly snowflakes on them. I wonder what snow is like. I wonder how many people coming here even remembered it, or associated it with winter.

Darkness weighs in around me, oddly concentrated in the directions the flashlight isn't pointing, as I climb up the motionless escalator. Men's clothes are on the first floor, but kids' are upstairs. I don't care all that much what I wear, since only I have to see it -- and maybe Asuka -- so it doesn't take long to pick some stuff out. When I head back down the escalator a few minutes later, I'm wearing a dark grey t-shirt with some sword-wielding cartoon character on the chest, and I've tucked something similarly silly under my arm. I also found a blue Dragons baseball cap in my size; I don't know why I didn't think of that before.

On the way out of the store, I slow and swipe a pair of sunglasses from a display near the registers. Something else I should have thought of before, with all the sun.

There's a residential district close to the store, so I head there after reclaiming my bike from the parking lot. I can already appreciate the benefit of the hat and shades. I'm an idiot for not getting that stuff before.

Maybe I should get some more flares. Then she'd know she was still welcome.

Quickly I reach a house I've stopped at before and duck inside, already pulling my new clothes off; I feel caked with mud and LCL residue these days, and the occasional shower doesn't keep it away for long. With my flashlight pointing at the ceiling from the vanity, I settle in for ten minutes of earth-cool water running over me.

But then, about halfway in, while my hair is still lathered with borrowed shampoo, the water chokes and splutters. And then it stops.

Blinking away stinging shampoo suds, I frown up at the showerhead. Somewhere inside the house, the plumbing grumbles angrily. This isn't good.

After a moment, however, something gurgles, and then the shower continues. I finish up as quickly as I can, then scowl at nothing as I towel myself off.

Crap. If the water is giving out on us, that's going to suck.

I think about that as I head back up the hill. It would seem pretty inefficient to bathe with bottled water. What else can I do, though? Almost as an afterthought I stop at another house, just long enough to grab soap and towels and a washcloth. It'll keep me going until I can think of something else.

On reaching my site on the ridge, I slow on my bike, then stop a good fifty meters away. There's another bike there, standing jauntily across the road as though to block all traffic. It's red, glittering metallically in the sunshine.

Chewing a lip, I lean into the pedals and close the last distance to what has to be Asuka's bike. There's no sign of the girl herself, but the trees are too thick to see the campsite from where I am.

Next to her bike I heel down the kickstand of my own, then slide to my feet and stand motionless. I can't hear anything, though. Nothing but wind murmuring through the trees.

Why am I delaying this? It's not like she's going to try to kill me. Probably not, anyway. Sighing, I grip the backpack's straps and make my way through the trees lining the road. The site isn't far.

Sure enough, Asuka is there when I step out of the trees. She's squatting on her heels, rooting through my stuff with a frown; on the muddy ground beside her she's already set aside my propane heater and a few bottles of water. Another backpack is slouching on the ground as well, one that must be her own.

As soon as I appear she glances over at me, cool as you please, then stands up, idly brushing red hair from her face. Like me, she's sporting muddy jeans, and her sun-yellow t-shirt is long-sleeved, but probably thin enough to breathe well. Blue eyes blink calmly at me, one kissed with a jagged ring of pink.

I stare back at her. Is she stealing my stuff? What is this?

Eventually she gives her head a toss and gestures at the vague pile of my supplies. "So, I was thinking this nylon rope would make a good clothes line, between there and there. See?" Pausing, she points at a pair of trees standing maybe ten meters apart. "And then with that burner we could make hot water, and actually wash our clothes."

After a few moments I manage to close my mouth. That's it? She's gone for three, four weeks, and then just shows up here and pretends like it never happened? I guess... so be it, if that's what she wants. "Um," I answer, trying to clear my frown. Seriously. "Maybe. I mean, yeah. Actually, no; I've just been throwing my clothes away when they get too dirty."

She rolls her eyes at this. "I have too, but it's stupid, really. Finding new ones is work we don't have to do; cleaning would be much faster."

I have a dark suspicion I know exactly who she thinks is going to be washing all the clothes, but I nod anyway. If that's what it takes, I suppose. "Whatever. Sure."

Her eyes narrow at this unenthusiastic response, but then she grunts. Squatting again, she starts tucking my stuff back to where it all belongs.

Giving my head a little shake, I shuffle into the campsite and let my backpack fall to the ground. She ignores me completely, moving quietly and without fanfare as she works.

I find myself just staring at her, albeit out of the corners of my eyes. What the hell is this all about, anyway? This is the same girl who ran away from me? And then snuck into my bed to sleep with me? Are there like... three Asukas running around now, or what?

Once my stuff is all together, she stands again, uncoiling the yellow nylon rope I picked up a week or so ago for no particular reason. When I say nothing, her brow furrows. "So are you going to help me, or what?"

"Oh. Yeah, of course." As I'm still speaking, she tosses one end of the rope halfheartedly at me, and I jerk to catch it.

Together we spend maybe a quarter-hour getting the thing tied up, which seems like a long time, but most of it is me wrestling with a faceful of pine needles. When we're done, I spend a few moments spitting a stray handful out of my mouth, and plucking others from my face and shirt, but Asuka seems totally unaffected.

Silence stretches, and belatedly I realize she's just watching me. Waiting. Her features are a little tight, her face slightly turned away from me; she seems... wary.

I guess it's my turn to keep up the act. "Um, have you eaten? I have some stuff, although I guess you've already, uh..." I trail off as she starts digging through my piles again.

Shortly she comes up with a package of instant noodles, then waves it imperiously at me. "I know it's hot, but it's been a while since I've had hot food, so I want this. Not yet, though. I'm not quite hungry."

It's been a while. There, she almost said it. Almost breached the topic of her long departure. Am I supposed to make something of it, or just brush it off? Eventually settling on the latter, I nod. "That's fine. It's... what, three hours before dark? We can eat then, I suppose."

"Sure." Carelessly tossing the package onto my pile, she frowns at her backpack. "Let's go through all of our stuff. We probably have some redundancy we could get rid of."

"Okay." Redundancy? Right now? Whatever. Shaking my head, I kneel down next to her backpack and unzip the thing. Inside it's overflowing with supplies, food and clothes and tools and such.

The next two hours pass surprisingly quickly. We're working together, close to each other, organizing stuff. There's little conversation, just a few half-sentences here and there as needed for our task, and I find that I'm studying her sideways an awful lot. She seems bossy, still, but I'm not entirely convinced; there isn't really much heat behind her words or mannerisms, not like there used to be, and I wonder if she's just falling into old patterns. I suppose I am too.

Once we finish with that, I turn to the little propane heater and start a pot of water to boiling. Once it's ready, noodles and seasoning go in, and in minutes it's done. This presents a problem, though.

"I don't have place settings," I admit, idly swirling the noodles in the pot. "So we'll have to eat from this thing, and one person at a time. You can go first."

Asuka lifts her eyebrows at this, perhaps deciding whether to dispute my decision-making ability, but after a moment she shrugs and swipes the pot from my hands. For a time she slurps and eats before passing it back to me, and then I slurp and eat.

Afterwards, while I'm rinsing the pot out with lukewarm water, Asuka hugs knees to her chest and stares off over the ridge. "Shinji?"

"Hmm?" I might have cooked the stuff for too long, because some of the sauce has burnt to the inside of the pan. A bit of scraping with a fingernail gets it off.

"I'd like a fire."

I blink up at her for a moment, but she's not paying attention to me at all. "Fine," I agree. "You can finish cleaning this, then." The pot plops to the dirt beside her.

"Fine."

Shaking my head, I stand and head to my tarp-covered pile of firewood. It's getting a little low; I'll have to get some more, soon. After grabbing an armful and then toeing the tarp back into place, I make my way back to the makeshift firepit I've been using and dump the wood on the ground next to it.

Asuka watches blankly as I rip more pages out of the books we once read, but she doesn't try to stop me. Shortly a pile of them are burning, courtesy of the lighter I picked up a while back, and an armful of twigs and sticks goes on top. The burning paper quickly makes the kindling catch, and in moments I carefully place a pair of split chunks of dry pine over it all. This is a skill I've gotten fairly good at recently.

Once the fire is going, I claim a seat on the other side of it from Asuka. She still hasn't said anything since I started making it.

Really, the silence is frustrating, almost painful. There's so much we could talk about, so much I could ask her. What the hell has she been up to lately? Why did she come back? For that matter, why did she leave at all? How should I act around her now? Should I be addressing the Asuka from before Third Impact, the Asuka from just after, or the Asuka who stole into my blankets to sleep next to me, who I could swear was caressing my arm once on that second night? I don't get it. I don't fucking get it at all. It's always something new with her.

I'm still glad she's back, though.

As I'm watching her, blue eyes flicker towards me, and I glance back out over the ridge. I guess I was staring. Why is she surprised? She's been here for a few hours and I still feel like I'm walking on eggshells.

Screw it. I have to say something. "So... you look good," I offer, nodding vaguely at her. "You must have been doing okay for yourself."

She blinks at me for a moment. "Oh! Umm, you look good too. I was thinking that earlier. Those sunglasses don't even suck." Frowning, she glances down at herself, fingering the bottom of her shirt, as though she's forgotten about me entirely.

Sunglasses. Right; I'm still wearing them, even though it's almost dark. Quickly pulling the things from my face, I fold them up and toss them onto the pile of my bathing supplies. Now _our_ bathing supplies.

Is she moving in with me? Why does this feel weirder than when we were just walking around together, before?

I don't say anything more, though. The fire crackles happily away between us, though it may as well be an ocean for how easy it is to reach the other side. In the silence I chance another sideways glance, but she's still sitting there almost motionless. Firelight glitters on the A10 connectors still in her hair.

Eventually, when the last of the sunset glow disappears below the ridge behind us, I climb to my feet, aware of Asuka's eyes on me. Without trying to make eye contact, or make a big deal out of it, I find my toothbrush and toothpaste -- both of which she picked out for me -- and set about brushing my teeth. When I'm done, a little bit of water serves to rinse out the excess, and I spit what's left out over the ridge. She watches me the whole time, saying nothing.

Only when I tug my shoes off and slip into my blankets does she unfold herself and move. For a moment I tense, wondering if she's going to sleep with me again, but she merely finds the sleeping bag she brought up here and starts unrolling it. Shortly we're both lying on our backs, once again separated by the crackling fire between us.

I swallow. "Hey, Asuka?"

"Yeah?" Her voice is soft.

"You're... still wearing your A10 connectors. How come?" I swallow again after my question, wondering if this subject is out-of-bounds, but she doesn't explode at me.

Instead, she simply lies there for a moment in silence. "Because I'm a pilot."

I frown at this. "Umm... you're not, though."

"No, I know." She sighs. Between us, the fire pops, sending sparks flying up a column of hazy smoke. "I mean... I know I don't need them, but I like to show them off. Wearing them makes me feel elite." Her voice is still quiet, about as thoughtful as I've ever heard it. Probably as honest, too.

I nod against my pillow, uncertain how to respond. "It's just... who's going to see them? There's only me, and I already know you're good."

Silence. Leaves rustling, flames murmuring, sounds I've grown used to recently.

Eventually she sighs again. "Well, people will be back eventually, right? And a person has to have some sort of identification."

I shake my head at this but keep my mouth shut. We've been over this. Maybe people will be back, and maybe they won't, but I wouldn't bet my future on it. It's already been almost a month and there's still nobody but us.

When she doesn't add anything further either, I hug my blankets closer and roll to my side. Firelight dances in my eyes, but it's already burning down for the night, soon to be nothing but embers growing cold.

Slowly my eyelids drift shut. Maybe everything has to burn out before it can start up again.


	10. Accelerando Giocosamente

Accelerando Giocosamente

It's almost dawn. The air is crisp, even chilly; despite that, I'm still covered in sweat in the sleeping bag. The moon is getting to be full again, behind the red ring, and its angling light is a tangible thing now, illuminating our humble campsite like a faint silver spotlight in the heavens. One of the things it shows me is Shinji.

He's still sleeping. I kind of expected him to look annoyed or something in his sleep again, but he doesn't. He just looks like a normal sleeping person. Unworried.

Something brushes skin near my left eye; blinking, I snap my hand back to my chest and curl it into a fist. I've been doing that lately, when I get thoughtful, trying to touch the scar around my eye. In a way it creeps me out, knowing it's there but being unable to feel anything, since the skin is still as smooth as it should be. If there's no mirror nearby, I can almost believe it's not scarred at all.

After a moment I relax my fist and glance over at Shinji. He still hasn't awoken; my panicked reflexes must not have reached through whatever he's dreaming about.

There's something different about him now, though. The moonlight painting his face in silver and black suggests a slightly different set of lines than were there before, though nothing physical has changed about him. Instead, it's more of his... bearing, I suppose. Maybe being forced to fend for himself, having no one to rely on, for almost a month has done something to him. Whatever it is, it's left his mark on him, a mark visible even in sleep, if subtly.

Or maybe I'm just making it up. Maybe I'm just comparing him to the cowardly Shinji in my head.

In either case, last night wasn't as good as the other nights. Sleeping on this side of the firepit... it's not the same. Not as good as sleeping next to him.

My God. I can't believe I'm just lying here, watching him sleep. Thinking about sleeping with him. It's like... like we're... yeah. Not a chance. He has some serious questions to answer.

He might have been right, though. About the nerve connectors. Really, what am I trying to prove by wearing them now? He's right that there's no one to impress but him, and he knows my record as well as it can be known.

I snort at that. Maybe that _is_ why I wear them.

In any case, though, they're useless. Nothing but ornamentation now. If I want to prove that he was wrong, that I've grown since Third Impact, the right thing to do would be to take them off.

Letting my eyes slide shut, I take a deep breath, then exhale slowly. Without looking I find the clips with my fingers, but there I pause unwillingly. They're smooth, cool to the touch, but almost like a part of me all the same; at the contact, I can _feel_ it, the faintest whisper dancing along my spine, feedback from being touched by my own flesh.

Two tiny clicks is all it takes to unfasten them. They look almost like barrettes in the palm of my hand for the moment it takes me to shake off my reverie and stuff them into a pants pocket.

I feel weird now. Like my head is naked.

But I have to remember that he was right. I'm not a pilot anymore. There _are_ no pilots anymore. Chewing a lip, I frown at him, through him.

Some time later, as the eastern sky is growing pale, Shinji stirs, and my attention snaps back to him. As he smacks his lips, his face undergoes a series of random expressions, starting at confusion before shifting through boredom and irritation before drifting into... I think wistfulness.

It's... kind of cute, really. Kind of funny. I've never watched anyone wake up before.

When his eyes finally slide open, the first thing they do is snap over to me, as though he's afraid I'll have disappeared during the night. Or maybe _hopeful_ that I've disappeared during the night.

Long moments stretch into silence before it occurs to me that we're just staring at each other. Unease kicks in, triggering some reflexive behavior, and I scowl at him. "I'm going to go wash up and dress, perv. Try not to peek."

When he just blinks at me, I rise, gather my things and set off into the trees. I wonder if he was even totally awake. I probably just made an idiot of myself for nothing.

Maybe two hundred meters away from the campsite, I stop and frown back behind me, but the way is blocked; there are trees in every direction. He'd have to seek me out actively to see anything. Not like he would, though. Or would he? Maybe if he thought I wouldn't catch him. He seems like a very... opportunistic voyeur. I really need to call him out on that, but the moment has to be right. He can't be expecting it.

Moving quickly, I strip down to my skin and scrub myself down with a damp washcloth. It's not a shower, but it'll do, and it's better than biking for three hours in the sun just to get clean. When dressing again afterwards, I pull on a different shirt, a poser-y thing meant to look like it came from Vienna. The walk back to the site is slightly easier than the walk out -- it's a little brighter now -- and when I get back, I toss our bath stuff into the pile devoted to it.

Shinji's now sitting up in his blankets, hair a mess, frowning out over the ridge, where a faint humid haze obscures the city in the early light. He eyes me briefly on my return, then pauses, obviously noting that my A10 connectors clips are missing. When, after a moment, his eyes slide back to my own, they're wide, a little uncertain. He doesn't know if he should make anything of it.

I take the choice from him by turning my back on him as I rummage through our food for breakfast. He's still watching me, though; I can feel his eyes on me, probably wondering how he possibly made me change my mind about something. And my head still feels naked.

Eventually, however, he climbs to his feet and claims the wet cleaning stuff I just used, then disappears into the trees. I start to shake my head before catching myself; at least now he's looking at my hair, not at my scar. Though... really I don't think I've caught him staring at that since I came here yesterday.

When he gets back, I nod in greeting. "I was thinking. We could probably cut down a couple of these trees here, for some more room and a better view of the city."

Shinji frowns cautiously at me as he puts away the bath stuff and grabs his cap instead. "Why?"

I blink, then shrug. "I already said what it was for. If we're going to be here for a while, we should have room, don't you think?"

He makes a face at this as he drops to the ground beside me. "I don't know. Actually... I was thinking about maybe making a... a permanent residence. Somewhere."

"What? Why?" Twisting, I punch his knee to let him know what a good idea this is. "The city is full of houses, moron."

"Yeah, but they're _other people's_ houses," he clarifies, scowling sideways at me. "And the infrastructure barely works anymore, anyway. When I was showering yesterday the water almost gave out on me."

I nod; I've experienced the same thing, and in any case there is a limit to how much we'll get out of the water supply with no electricity anywhere. Simple pressure has been sustaining us for now. "Well, even so, how well do you really think you could build a house? Seriously, we're two kids with no construction training or experience; maybe we could build something, and maybe not, but at least somebody else's house isn't likely to collapse around us while we sleep." Us. We. I keep including myself in this, don't I? Why not, though? I tried going it alone, and I saw how well that worked out.

"Calm down, Asuka," he murmurs, idly wiping his sunglasses clean on the hem of his shirt. "I'm not saying we have to do this today. I was just throwing it out there as a possible goal in the future. So let's figure out what we want before we start hacking trees down."

I find myself frowning at him and try to stop, but it's hard. What the hell happened to him? He's actually... unruffled. And worse, I find that his measured response actually did what he wanted it to: I've calmed down. But not because I'm placated; it's because I'm unbalanced, like he just gave me a shove and I'm still flailing arms around, trying not to fall.

I don't like this. Not at all. Somehow control is shifting from me to him, and how the hell can I stop it if I don't know why it's happening? The worst part is that the idiot probably has no idea what he's doing to me. If I didn't need him, I wouldn't put up with this.

Tonight, then. I play the nuclear card tonight. First, though, he has to feel secure, has to feel like I'm under control and like we're not going to delve into our pasts anymore. "Fine," I sigh. "Let's just... whatever."

He grunts without looking at me, instead munching on a handful of dry cereal. After a moment I resume my own meal of canned nectarine segments.

Once we're done eating, I spare him a diffident sideways glance, then shake the empty can I'm still holding. "I thought we should get more stuff like this," I note quietly, not quite meeting his gaze. "Maybe a week's worth of food and water would be good. What do you think?"

Behind the sunglasses, Shinji's eyes widen in surprise at being consulted, let alone so meekly, and with effort I manage not to smirk at the ground. Eventually, though, he nods thoughtfully. "Yeah. That's a good idea, actually. Lets us worry about other stuff for a change."

Of course it's a good idea. I came up with it. "Also," I add, as though the thought just came to me, "some watertight containers wouldn't kill us either, for clothes and stuff."

"True," he acknowledges. "Then we could... loot ahead, so to speak."

I smile at this description. And because the plan is working; he's getting more at ease. "Which do you want to get today, then? The food or the containers? I can get whichever one you don't."

He spares me a sidelong glance rendered unreadable by the shades. "We can probably find them both in the same store."

Oh? "True. Let me know when you want to go."

"I'm ready now," he shrugs, tucking away the cereal box and standing.

With no reason to argue I nod, brushing off my jeans as I rise as well. "Then let's go, jerkface."

I can hear his low chuckle from behind me as we head out towards the road, and find myself smiling. I have to be _sort of_ a bitch to him, at least, or else he'll get suspicious.

As we find our bikes and start coasting down the long hill, I feel almost... pleased. It's kind of nice, actually, to do this ride in the daylight. And not alone. The water glittering off below us is actually kind of pretty, even with the stupid color and Rei's stupid half-head in the middle.

We don't speak much on the way down. Every now and then I veer my bike towards Shinji's, though, trying to freak him out, but all it does is make him laugh.

Before long we're rolling into the parking lot of the closest grocery store to the campsite. The doors have long since been smashed -- I think by him -- so the faint odor of rotten organics wrinkles my nose from fifty paces away. This isn't going to be fun.

In the parking spaces closest to the doors, Shinji brakes to a lazy halt and flips his kickstand down. I do the same a short distance away, frowning at the store entrance as I slip to the pavement.

Almost instantly, as he's tugging his sunglasses off, he throws me a sideways half-grin. "Remember where we parked."

I lift a pained and skeptical eyebrow at this. Really? So lame. Though it helps my plan, that he's making jokes.

Shortly the smile fades from his face, to be replaced by apparent indifference. With a shrug he continues on into the store, flashlight at the ready, shirt quickly pulled over his mouth and nose against the nauseating stench of rot.

I follow a step behind, slowing almost to a stop as we approach. It's going to be awful in there, but my shirt's not long enough to serve as a filter without baring a section of my stomach, and I don't want him to see the scars there yet. I... didn't think of this beforehand; it's not something I had to worry about when I was alone.

A few steps into the store, he pauses, then turns back at me, eyebrows drawn in concern. "Aren't you going to cover your mouth or anything?" His words are only slightly muffled by his own shirt.

"For this? Are you kidding? I have a cast-iron stomach." Eyeing him in narrow scorn, I stride past him into the store, flicking on my own flashlight in the process.

Gah. That's... gah. I shouldn't have opened my mouth in here. I feel strongly compelled to spit out the taste of death, but... not with him watching.

"I'll find the food," he volunteers after a moment, when I don't say anything, "if you want to get the containers and some water."

Nodding, I angle towards the back corner of the store; hopefully the extra distance from produce and such will thin out the smell somewhat. Although, as I quickly find out, this turns out not to be the case. God damn it.

Thus, holding my breath and moving as fast as I can, I grab an armful of plastic containers that'll probably hold a few garments each, as well as a handful of sealing bags I imagine will come in handy at some point. Then, while Shinji's light is still wandering around in the canned goods, I hurry back outside, grabbing some water bottles from an endcap en route.

Once on the safety of the sidewalk, I slump against the side of the building and squeeze my eyes shut. I know it still smells terrible out here, but compared to inside it's like roses and rainbows. I... think I'm going to be sick.

Soon, however, footsteps on broken glass jerk me back upright. Shinji emerges a few seconds later, grimacing as he elbows his shirt back down into place. "That's... pretty rank," he admits, muttering, before his gaze finds me. "You okay? You look pale."

"I'm fine." If I'd just told him about the scars before, this wouldn't have been a problem. Sometimes I just want to smack myself. But on the other hand, I'm still not going to show him. Not yet. Maybe not ever. We'll see.

"Fine. Let's go back." Shaking his head and coughing, he makes for the bikes.

I follow, trying to ignore the vague lightness in my head. "Hey," I call. "Before we go, we should figure something out for water."

He pauses, awkwardly repositioning the supplies in his arms to unzip the backpack sitting next to his bike. "What about water? You want to get more? I'd rather get it from a different store, though."

"No, it's... well, that wouldn't hurt," I shrug. "That's not what I meant, though. We need to get a way to make our own water."

"Make it?" Startled blue eyes glance up at me for a moment before he resumes stuffing things into the backpack. "I didn't think you could make water."

I roll my eyes at this, jamming the damn plastic stuff I picked up into my own backpack. "You don't, moron, unless you mean by burning hydrogen. Didn't you ever pay attention in school? No, since we can't live on bottled water forever, I was thinking of making our own desalination setup. Except this would remove LCL too, not just salt."

Shinji pauses again, then slowly straightens and frowns at me. A breeze ruffles his short hair while the silence stretches. "Aren't those expensive? I remember the teacher mentioning that at one point. Water was a big issue after Second Impact."

I blink at this, vaguely surprised he would remember such a thing, then shrug it off and climb onto my bike. "Yeah. But we don't need to produce it for the whole city. We just need to boil -- can we start moving now? I'm dying here -- just need to boil and condense enough for the two of us." As we take off biking, the breeze dispels the smell of corruption and I can't help but smile.

"Could we even do that?" wonders Shinji loudly as we angle across a graffiti-strewn intersection. "How hard would it be?"

"My degree is in physics, smartass. Of course I could do it." I pause, thinking. "The biggest pain would be getting rid of the crud left over after boiling each batch. And finding all the fuel to burn, I suppose. I don't know." Now that I talk about it, it seems like a lot of work. I was envisioning something like a school lab setup, if maybe a little larger, but now I think it'll take a little more planning. Probably not something we can do today.

"Is it something we can do today?"

I snort, then shake my head at Shinji's questioning glance. "Probably not. We'll think on it, though."

"Like a house," he adds after a moment.

I nod. Like a house.

The ride back up the hill elapses in a thoughtful silence. Or at least it's thoughtful on my part. What would I even need to get something like that going? If I can find sufficient liquid propane, or another suitable fuel, I could probably head down to the water and rig up a pump connected to a glorified boiler. Reverse osmosis would be ideal, of course, but that would be harder to set up. I need... I need to think.

When we reach the ridge again, a detail on Shinji's bike finally catches my attention and I nod a question at him. "Hey. Didn't you have a GPS unit on there before?"

He gives me an odd look, and belatedly I realize this is almost taboo; I only noticed the thing there in the first place when he and I randomly met at the shoe store. Eventually, though, he just nods. "It ran out of battery power about a week ago," he explains. "Or else it just got tired of the LCL rain." Sunlight makes him squint as he speaks; he forgot to put his sunglasses back on, after the store.

I nod in return, and together we leave the bikes totally unattended on a major highway. It still seems weird not to lock stuff up, but if there were enough people around to make theft worthwhile, we wouldn't have to be doing half this stuff in the first place.

It doesn't take long to fit our new supplies into the old ones, and when it's all done I estimate we have five or maybe six days' worth of stuff up here. It's not as much as I wanted, but it'll do.

Another thing we have in abundance is trash. "Hey, idiot."

"Yeah?" He's stretching idly a short distance away, arms raised skyward.

"What have you been doing with all your garbage and empty bottles and stuff?"

He shrugs, then claims a seat on the ground while he roots through the food pile. "Sometimes I just throw it over the ridge. Sometimes I let it pile up, then take it with me to the city and drop it in someone's bin. Why?"

"We should get a routine going for it," I decide. "We can't just throw crap around and let it sit there." No, wait; I'm trying to be more docile. "Or... did you have another plan? If so, I'm willing to hear it."

He jerks in surprise at my mild tone, then eyes me sharply for a moment. "Umm... no, I... I didn't really have a plan." He pauses, chewing a lip, frowning fiercely. "If you don't mind my saying so, Asuka, I... never really figured you were the environmental type."

"I don't really care one way or the other," I shrug. "But it rains _blood_ now, Shinji; it's possible the ecosystem is a lost cause. On the other hand, though, I don't exactly want to live swimming in my own waste either. And with more people likely showing up it's bound to get even worse if we don't figure something out now."

"People are..." His frown deepens almost into a scowl before clearing, and after a moment he simply shakes his head. Blue eyes slide absently to regard the city below. "Maybe. Yeah, I guess that's true. What did you have in mind?"

I hesitate a moment, just long enough to make myself seem indecisive. "Well... I don't know. We could just take occasional trips down to the city and drop all our trash off in existing bins, like you used to do. That was a good idea."

He twists slightly towards me, then actually smiles. "Thanks. Actually, I could do that now, if you want. Or, after eating." As though this reminds him he was looking for food, he resumes pawing through our food pile, shortly coming up with some vegetable drink and a little bag of chips.

I nod, quickly finding some nuts and dried fruit for myself. I'd fucking kill for a steak right about now, though.

"We're almost out of firewood," notes Shinji as we eat. "You want to chop more? Otherwise I can, and you can be on trash duty."

There he is, taking control again. I try to keep my discomfiture to myself as I nod again. "I can do the wood." Axes are cool anyway.

He says nothing, instead simply eating. I do likewise.

Shortly he rises and starts collecting discarded wrappers and empty bottles into a backpack, while I wander over to check out the axe. It's simple enough, but apparently sharp. It'll be interesting to use a real one.

"I'll be back in a few hours," offers Shinji by way of farewell, hovering at the edge of the campsite.

"Have fun." Hefting the axe, I stride into the woods, in the direction where he once mentioned he'd downed a dead tree.

Soon I find it, in a clearing maybe sixty meters from where we're now living. It's actually pretty here, I reflect; with trees all around and layers of multi-colored moss decorating the edge of rocks poking up through the soil, it's like something from a postcard. I've never really cared too much for natural beauty, but with the world so beaten and ugly now, I guess I have to enjoy what I can.

I've never chopped wood before either, but it doesn't seem too hard: swing the axe until the pieces come apart. A few hours later I start carrying armfuls back to the depleted pile Shinji once made. By the time I'm done moving it, however, he still isn't back, so, bored, I start making a fire myself.

It feels weird to rip up one of the books I helped to find, or which I just grabbed at random from the library, but it's not like we're using them for anything. When Shinji finally shuffles into the campsite, I have a crackling blaze prepared.

"Oh," he smiles; warm hues paint his face in the dusky twilight. "Good. I was afraid I'd have to make one."

"I'm resourceful," I point out. And I started a lot more than simple fires, earlier in the city.

He regards me briefly but settles down on the other side of the fire, tiredly pulling his baseball cap off. "How are your hands? Mine hurt, afterwards."

I shrug. "My hands are fine." It's my arms that hurt, and my back. I must have been chopping wrong, or maybe he's just stronger than I am. Studying him quickly out of the corners of my eyes, I try not to grunt. He probably doesn't even weigh all that much more than I do, but I suppose there's a portion of my body mass that has little purpose but to make me look hot, whereas slightly more of his can be used for physical labor.

Eventually I shake my head slightly. "If you want to cook something, I'll clean." Cleaning's easier than cooking, and the new Shinji isn't likely to do both for me.

He smiles again. "Sure. Thanks." I wave aside his silly gratitude, and without speaking further he chooses a package of instant something from the pile and starts cooking.

This is... weird. I feel somehow domestic. I need him, though; I can't afford to be selfish and have him toss me out again. If only I actually _liked_ him, too.

He's chosen to cook instant noodles of some sort, with seasoning and sauce that don't smell much like the actual meal they're intended to represent, but it's food. We eat in silence. Afterwards, I clean up, also in silence, but at least the cleanup isn't hard; some hot water, and a couple of minutes with a sponge, and I'm done.

It's almost dark when I finish, with a purplish glow all that's left to remind us of the sunset. "It's pretty tonight," I observe, keeping my voice quiet.

"Yeah." He pauses, sitting with arms crossed over his knees, staring up at an angle. "I really like the evenings, now."

I can't say I agree, but I keep my mouth shut. It's hard to enjoy the sight too much when there's a giant band of red souls orbiting the planet in plain view. It stays in the same place along the celestial equator, though, like a genuine planetary ring, rather than changing apparent places in the sky. The moon follows it, now. Idly I find myself wondering if it has mass; it probably does, if it's staying in a stable orbit like that. If so, having it up there probably slowed down the world's angular momentum a little bit. I bet the days are slightly longer now.

Sighing, I tear my eyes from the red streak and glance over at Shinji again, but he's just sitting there, apparently content to stargaze. He looks almost happy.

I guess this is as good a time as any to go nuclear. "So," I murmur, inspecting my fingernails. "Do you always think about me when you jerk off, or just most of the time?"

The stammering shock I expected to hear from him is strangely absent; a quick check shows me that he's still just staring at the sky, though now he's frowning. I try to keep a frown from my own face as the silence stretches.

Eventually clothes rustle as he shifts. "What do you mean?" His voice is quiet, even guarded. As well it should be.

"The hospital, Shinji. I know what you did. Remember?" We talked about this in Instrumentality... but maybe he figured I was already dead, and that he was just dreaming me.

He shrugs mildly. "Honestly? Probably half the time." Despite his flippant words, he's gotten even quieter, speaking barely above a whisper.

I can no longer keep the puzzlement from my own face. "Oh? Who was it the rest of the time?"

"You name her, I've thought of her," he sighs, leaning back on his hands now. "Rei, Misato. Hikari, sometimes. Girls in our class whose names I don't remember anymore. Celebrities." He shrugs.

Quickly I manage to sneak a narrow glance across the fire, and discover that his arms are actually shaking, if only slightly. So he _is_ uncomfortable, only pretending otherwise. Good. He's putting up far too convincing of an illusion, though. I was hoping for mute shock, or maybe breathless apologies or even yelling and raging, but this... this isn't what I expected.

Well, shit. Maybe a little more prodding will push him off-balance. "Yeah? So the hospital thing, does that turn you on? IV feeds keeping me sedated? Is that your thing?" Strangely I feel a perverse joy at topping his fantasy list at fifty-ish percent; it means I beat Rei.

"Not usually," he admits, displaying far less shame than he should. "Usually it was other stuff."

"Like what?"

"Do you really want to know?"

"Try me." My words come out clipped. Bitten.

He sighs again. Between us, logs shift in the fire, sending a miniature blizzard of sparks skyward. "Normally it used to... depend on my mood. Towards you. Like, if we were getting along, then in my head we were... happy. You know... affectionate and everything. But if we'd been fighting, then I would dream about trying to... to... _hurt _you. Or smother you, sometimes, like with a pillow while we were doing it. Stuff like that."

I swallow, uncertain how to react to this uninflected revelation. On the one hand... yeah, I get it; he had rape fantasies about me. Rape-murder, apparently. What a fucking creep. What a worthless human being. On the other hand, though... I... didn't realize I messed him up that much. That he took me that seriously. And somehow despite all of that he still dreamed about us being tender -- loving, unless I miss my guess -- and still stuck around to help me around after Third Impact.

I don't get him. This isn't good.

Before I can frame another response, he speaks into the silence. "What about you, then?"

I blink. "What?"

He tilts his head slightly in my direction. "What do you think about when you do it?"

Heat blossoms somewhere inside. "Stop dreaming. Girls don't have to do that stuff."

"Bullshit." I can hear the smile in his voice; he's laughing at me. "I know Misato used to, even when she had Kaji."

At the latter name, ice slashes through the heat inside me, and I can't help but flinch. "Shinji, you shouldn't have done it. It was pretty fucking creepy, you know."

"You think I don't know that?" His voice is tight. "Look, it was a shitty thing to do, and I feel terrible and I'm sorry. While you were busy getting medicated out of your mind, I was paralyzed with guilt until just before Instrumentality started because of what I did. So it's not like I don't know."

He's speaking loudly now, almost yelling, and part of me relaxes somewhat; this is better. But the rest of me bristles. "Well, just consider this my way of _throwing it out there_, Shinji. What am I supposed to do? Ignore it? It's a pretty fucking big elephant in the corner, if you ask me!"

"You know what? I don't even care! I'm trying to apologize, and if you're not going to accept it, there's not a whole lot I can do." Sighing, he leans forward again, rubbing his face. "Anyway, it's not like what you did was all that different."

"What?" I have to pause at this, but even by his standards it doesn't make any sense. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Earlier," he states tiredly. "Recently. When you were sleeping with me."

"Oh, please." I surprise myself by laughing. "Don't even try to compare that to what you did, Shinji. You may as well have raped me."

"But I didn't," he counters evenly. "And what you did was exactly the same: you used me, stole something from me to satisfy some need you had, and then you walked away afterwards. At least what I did to you didn't toy with your emotions."

"Whatever. You enjoyed what I did."

When he doesn't answer right away, I glance over, then blink. He's glaring at nothing, slowly crumpling his hat into a ball and unfolding it again. Idly I wonder if it's my neck he wishes his hands were around. In any case, though, he looks... hurt. And angry. Very angry.

I guess... maybe I shouldn't have said that. And, in a way, he may have a point. "Shinji."

"What now?"

I swallow an angry response, instead hugging knees to my chest. "I'll... let it go if you will."

Silence answers me, and I sigh. This wasn't how it was supposed to go, not with him snapping back at me, putting me on the defensive. But he's right. I knew it was wrong the first time I crept into his blankets to sleep with him. It was a silly, stupid thing to do, in retrospect, but I was so lonely, so desperate for human contact, and I needed him even if I was still too angry to say so. I wonder if he'd even believe me, now, if I told him that. Maybe that was even how he felt about me, too; in that case his masturbation just would have been... a surrogate for the tenderness he actually came to me looking for. I don't know.

"Fine," he mutters, shaking his head. "That's... Asuka, I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it." I'm not even sure what he's apologizing for. "It's... getting late, isn't it?" The words slip out before I'm even aware I'm saying them; if anything, it's even earlier than we went to bed last night.

Shinji glances skyward and nods. "Yeah. Yeah, we, um... It's been a long day."

"Yeah." My arms still hurt, really, and I suspect they'll only be more sore tomorrow, and I can only imagine how he feels after riding up the hill twice in one day. Maybe some sleep isn't a bad idea.

Shortly he clambers to his feet and seeks his blankets a short distance away. After a moment I make a face then do the same, wriggling into my sleeping bag after kicking off my shoes and socks. Something's bothering me, though; something's not right.

It's only after a half-hour lying in the darkness that it hits me. Shinji. Even though he was clearly in the wrong, he stood up to me. Successfully. And made me realize I was wrong too.

He's not a wimp anymore.


	11. Adagietto Maestoso

Adagietto Maestoso

A powerful sneeze sets my eyes to watering.

Grunting, blinking, I pull my sunglasses off to wipe at my eyes. It hasn't rained in a few days, and the constant sun and heat have left the world a little dusty. Every branch I slap out of my way, every hopeful little piece of undergrowth I step on, seems to leave a thousand tiny particles of unidentifiable plant matter floating in the bars of shifting sunlight. I'm not used to this kind of stuff; even with my shirt pulled over my nose and mouth again, it's still driving me nuts.

Or maybe I'm just an idiot, and don't know I have allergies. Either way, I'm tired of this.

Sighing, I stop where I stand. Above, branches shift in the breeze, weaving shadows and sunlight across my face, reinforcing my mild headache. Trees stretch in every direction from where I stand, a motley and unbroken regiment of pine and yew and maple. I'm still in astonishment that this much wilderness can sit so close to Tokyo-3 and I had no idea it was here until I started living in it.

Shortly the breeze dies, and a thick silence returns, devoid even of animal noises. That's really starting to bother me; though I've seen insects and even some smaller animals, I've spotted nothing larger than a mouse the entire time I've been here. I'm hoping that Third Impact simply scared everything big away, and that it'll all come back eventually.

A brief electronic crackle pierces the silence, followed by a tinny female voice. "You're an idiot. Over."

I smile, idly palming the walkie-talkie from where it's clipped to my jeans, but I can't think of anything to say in response, so after a moment I fasten it back on. She's been doing that all day.

It was her idea to do this. Her idea to split up and explore the area, looking for better places for us to live long-term. I suppose that's a good sign, coming from her, but if I had any money I'd bet that she came up with it just to get some time alone from me. Time to think.

I can't believe she brought that up last night, the thing at the hospital. Well, I can, but I'm surprised it turned out like it did. I would guess she meant for it to be a beat-down session on me, not the cathartic dialogue it turned out to be. I'm still not entirely certain how I managed to turn the tables on her, but whatever I did, she seemed pretty subdued at the end. Pretty thoughtful. I actually felt bad for snapping at her, and really I still do, but it's nothing she didn't have coming. She was right to be furious for what I did to her, and in truth that's another thing I still feel awful about, but she lost the moral high ground when she started sleeping with me against my will.

She was right, though. I did enjoy it. I just wanted her to ask first, and be there in the morning.

Abruptly I blink, realizing I'm just standing in place, frowning at trees. Sighing, I spin in place, scanning the terrain here, but it's all the same as everywhere else. I've been looking for flat places, hoping to find a location in which it's a little easier to put something solid than where we're staying now, but I'm not sure why I'm even bothering. I doubt she'll want to move; she likes the "view" from our current site. The view of a graveyard. Maybe it lets her feel like there are more people around or something. I don't know.

Sighing, I turn back the way I came from, back towards the road and my parked bike, some distance out of sight. She's been so keen to mess with me all day that I can't avoid the temptation to do the same. Pulling the radio from my hip, I think for a moment, then thumb the talk button. "Hey, Asuka."

Moments slip past as I trace my original path coming out here. My eyes water again, and my nose tingles, but I manage to hold off on another sneeze.

Shortly static crackles again. "The hell you want? Over."

Grinning, I keep walking, leaving her in silence. Sunlight dances in my eyes through the sunglasses but I keep my head lowered, hoping to shade most of it away with the cap.

"Out with it, jerk. Did you find something? Over."

Lifting the radio to my lips again, I push the button. "I don't know what you're talking about, Asuka. I didn't say anything."

"That's it? You spent the whole day coming up with that? Weak, Shinji. Very weak. Over."

With a chuckle I clip the thing back to my pants. I'm not as quick on my feet as she is, but that doesn't mean I can't bug her.

"And remember to use 'over' next time, genius. Otherwise I don't know when you're done. Over."

It's a solid ten-minute walk back to the road, and the whole time I find myself wondering why I came this far out in the first place. A good hundred meters or two should have been enough to tell me this wasn't what we wanted, but the plateau just kept going, and so did I.

When I finally get to my bike, a quick glance overhead tells me it's late afternoon already. I don't see a need to kill myself searching for a future home site, so with a shrug I climb onto the seat and head back down the hill. It was my job to search uphill from our spot, and hers to search downhill. I wonder how much searching she actually did.

Sure enough, on reaching the campsite I get a cool nod from Asuka, who's just lounging around. I return the gesture, letting my brows furrow significantly at her relaxed position.

"Bite me," she murmurs, glancing out over the city. "I just got here. Did you find anything?"

"Nothing worthwhile." After a moment's indecision I drop to sit next to her. "You?"

"Nothing."

A likely story. I just nod again, though. Besides, she does smell like sweat; she's probably telling the truth.

Now that I think about it, _I'm_ sweaty too. Idly tugging my cap off, I rub it tiredly over my face, then let it flop to the dirt in front of me. If this keeps up I'll probably need a new one soon.

Something to the side catches my attention and I glance in that direction, just in time to see Asuka look away. Pretending not to notice, I toe absently at the ground as though bored, but inside I'm starting to get a little confused. She was watching me like that once this morning, too, totally without expression, just after we got up, but I shrugged it off at the time. Now, though, I'm starting to wonder what's going through her head. She's probably trying to figure out how to trip me up next time or something.

Let her. If she wants to hurt me, she will. I'm not going to live the whole rest of my life on guard around her.

"Hey." Her voice is quieter now, more gentle than the acid sarcasm she's been giving me all day. "You know how we have a bunch of extra food and water now, right?"

"Yeah?" I eye her sideways, pulling off my sunglasses in the process. If I wear them too long, they feel like they're pinching my head.

Blue eyes meet my own without humor, like she's forcing herself to meet my gaze for some reason. "What would you think about finding, say... a truck, and moving a whole bunch of stuff up here at once? We'd be set for weeks. Probably months."

I ponder that, then give a shrugging nod. "I don't see why not." I'm still getting used to her asking my opinion on stuff. I'm not sure if she's doing it just for appearances or not. "Do we have to do it soon, though? We'll last a while without it, and I wouldn't mind having a day just to... just to chill, really."

Asuka blinks at this, and abruptly her face seems so very close to mine, closer than we've been since sleeping together; I could touch her birthmark if I wanted to. After a moment she glances away, shaking slightly, red hair fluffing with the motion, and it takes me a moment to realize she's laughing silently. "Just to chill?" she repeats. "What a slacker. We'll need playing cards or something first, though. I'm not just sitting here all day and staring at your ugly face."

"Fine." I try not to frown, unsure if she's laughing at me or at her own ambition or what.

As her laughter subsides, one of her fists collides with the meat of my shoulder, more pushing me than punching me. "Start cooking, stooge," she commands, but her voice is still quiet, still soft. "It'll be dark before long."

Shaking my head, I scoot over to our food supplies and do as she asks. This is starting to creep me out; it's like she's trying to be both nice_ and_ bitchy, to cover all the bases or something. Although... could it be that she herself doesn't know how to act around me now? Maybe that's what the weird looks have been for today. Why would she be that confused, though?

I cook quickly and without distraction, as Asuka seems lost in her own thoughts. It's pasta tonight, with freeze-dried peppers and a spicy oil sauce; though the finished meal has the consistency of wet cardboard, it doesn't actually taste too bad. Or maybe I'm just getting used to all the instant food.

Twilight starts rolling in as we eat, and I find myself studying Asuka as she in turn studies the rest of the world below. She's different now. I know I accused her of being the same, of not having learned anything, but I think I was mistaken. She's more... solid now, somehow, less shrill. And why wouldn't she be? She's the only person besides me to come back to the world, so she has to be strong. Else, like everyone else, she wouldn't be here at all.

And I'm still glad she's here. She must finally be healing from all the stuff that hurt her so badly before Instrumentality, which is good in itself, but it also makes her... pleasant company. I actually enjoy spending time with her, bitter arguments included. At least we're arguing about honest stuff now, real issues, not meaningless kid stuff like who gets to take point in the next Angel attack. And at least she actually thinks now, can actually realize when she's wrong and back down in a reasonable manner.

I don't know if I'm wise now, or just foolish enough to think so, but I've grown too. Grown enough to recognize that I like her. As more than a friend.

What to do, though? Just sit like this, enjoying what I have? I'm not going to kid myself -- I do want more than this -- but I'm not at all certain I'm going to do anything about it. Maybe... maybe wait until she settles a bit, until she's at least not confused about how to behave around me. She's grown, but I doubt she could make up her mind with any clarity right now.

Something in the silence, or in my gaze on her, must catch her awareness because she pauses in mid-chew, then turns to frown at me. I twitch, but there's no backing out; she's caught me staring, fair and square. Shadowed blue eyes blink back at me, thoughtful, unafraid.

And then she glances away, totally calm, as though nothing's happened. Ignoring me completely, she resumes chewing, resumes staring off over the dusk-cloaked city.

I squeeze my eyes shut and try not to draw a ragged breath. Either I've already been shot down, or she's just playing calm now to blindside me with some comment about that look later. I'm probably screwed either way, and the sudden appetite-quenching swirl in my stomach would seem to agree.

Anyway, it wouldn't kill me to be nicer to her now, I suppose. Too much kindness and she'll probably think I'm being sycophantic, but a little here and there might get her to smile more, maybe. Not to mention I could apologize for being wrong about whether she's changed.

I'm... nervous, I think. For the first time since Third Impact, I actually feel genuinely nervous, and my stomach is still swirling too much to let me want to eat at all. With a sigh I climb to my feet, aware of Asuka's eyes sliding to me, then shuffle a few steps to the ridge and dump the rest of my pasta out. I didn't have much left, at least.

"You would do that?" she murmurs behind me. "Turn your back on me like that, so close to the edge?"

Lowering my makeshift dish -- one of the resealable plastic things -- to my side, I nod without turning around. "Yeah. Why not?"

"Two movements," she answers. "The first, a quick lunge in your direction, planting my knee on the ground. The second, throwing all my forward momentum into my arms for one... little... push."

Shrugging, I turn around and stare back at her, unimpressed. "You could kill me in my sleep, too," I point out. "Or by pushing me down the bluffs on my bike. What's the point in worrying? I trust you." She's just trying to mess with me again. In her mind this is probably a power struggle or something.

Red eyebrows climb at this, and she leans thoughtfully back against the log-bench. "Why?"

"I don't know. I've pissed you off a lot before, and I think if you were going to kill me, you'd have done it before this." Plus, if she were really intending to cause me serious harm, she wouldn't _tell_ me about it beforehand. She's not an idiot.

She doesn't answer, though, instead just watches me blandly like she's trying to seem dangerous. One finger scratches idly at an itch on her cheek.

With another shrug I toss my bowl and chopsticks to the dirt in front of her. "You're cleaning up."

Her brows draw sharply back down as she watches me reclaim my seat. Eventually, though, she chews a lip, then resumes eating without comment.

I wonder if something's wrong with me. I like a girl who makes casual death threats just to stir things up.

Whatever. "Do you want a fire?"

She blinks at me, then nods once. "You've gotten pretty good at making them."

"I've had practice." Thankfully she makes no attempt to distract me as I find and start ripping pages from one of the books, and after a few moments she starts in on the dishes. I find I enjoy watching her work. It's not so much because I take pleasure in being able to force her to clean up, so much as I just... like watching her do stuff. Peaceful stuff.

Once the fire is going and the dishes are drying, I sprawl next to the firepit, leaning back on my hands. It looks like it's going to be a full moon tonight, or close to it; already it's a swollen peach-orange ball hovering just above the eastern horizon.

To my surprise Asuka drops down beside me, on my side of the fire, a little closer than I would have expected her to sit. She doesn't seem to be paying any attention to me, though, instead just gazing sideways along the edge of the ridge.

After a moment I return my attention to the sky. It's been so long since I've been around city lights now that I find I can barely remember how it used to look, before Third Impact. I know there were fewer stars then, since the light washed them out, but I can't really picture it in my head anymore. This is the new sky.

"Shinji?"

"Hmm?" Really, I wish I knew more of the constellation names. It seems like that's the stuff people are supposed to talk about around campfires. I bet Asuka knows them, though.

"You know..." She trails off with a quiet sigh. Her voice is back to being soft, now. "You know, when I first came back, after being apart for so long... when I said you looked good... I meant that."

Startled, I glance over at her with what's bound to be a bizarre expression on my face, but she's not even looking at me. Instead she's staring at her hands folded in her lap, lips thinned, face thoughtful. Her eyes cut towards me briefly before jerking back.

"Um..." I swallow. What the hell is this? In fifteen minutes we've moved from talking about murdering me to how I look good?

"It's true, though," she insists, finally making eye contact, if only briefly. "You don't look like a dorky schoolboy anymore, and it's nice. I just... figured you should know."

"Thank you," I manage after a moment. I... think that's the first unsolicited nice thing she's ever said about me, the first compliment that wasn't backhanded or coupled with a much greater insult. Is it? I rack my brain briefly trying to think of another time she's done it, but I'm drawing a blank. "That's... good to know. Thank you."

She nods a little stiffly, then shifts vaguely about without actually moving. "I just... yeah. You know."

I'm still staring at her despite her obvious discomfort. What is this? Is this just another way of pushing me, of tugging on my strings to find out which ones move me? She seems honest, though, and I don't think she's a good enough actor to fake this kind of unease.

So. Maybe the compliment was intended to manipulate me somehow, but she meant it. I don't get it. She's acting like... like she's sticking her neck out, and has yet to walk away unscathed. Is she afraid I'll come back with some barb or cheap shot? _What, compliments from Asuka? Is the world ending again? Hahahaha!_

Once again her eyes slide in my direction. "You're... uh, staring, Shinji." Her tone is flat, and the firelight paints her face in warm flickering orange, nearly concealing the birthmark.

"Sorry." I shake my head. She needs more than a 'thank you' for that. "Hey."

"Mmm?"

I take a deep breath, then exhale sharply. "I want to apologize. I mean... for what I said earlier, right before you ran off. About not... not learning, or changing. I think you have, but I must not have seen it or something, so... I was wrong. I'm sorry."

Slowly she raises her eyes to meet mine, then makes as if to look away before double-taking back. There's no pretense at the moment, no false impression she's trying to convey, nothing I'm trying to hide from her; I'm just saying what I mean, and she's reading the confirmation on my face with sharp eyes that twitch from time to time as she studies me.

Long moments pass in silence. For some reason it's much easier to meet her gaze than it used to be.

Eventually she gives me a thoughtful nod, then stares out over the abandoned city. Far beyond her, the moon is now high enough that it looks silver again, undistorted by the horizon if still crossed through with red.

Huh. She didn't explode at me, at least. I suppose a nod is better than nothing.

Adjusting my seat on the ground, I shake my head again and frown back up at the glittering heavens. I wonder if the belt of crimson slashing through the blackness, intersecting the moon, will ever go away. If not, that's part of the moon we'll just never see again, the part behind it, forever hidden as it rides the ring of souls like some sick celestial monorail.

"Hey, jerk."

Ah, we're back to the taunting voice. Here it comes. "Yeah?"

"You remember what they look like, don't you?"

I hesitate, uncertain how to interpret this, until finally I glance a question at Asuka. She's still staring at her lap, though now her hair is hanging to obscure her face. "Remember who?"

By way of answer she reaches up to cup her own breasts, even squeezing them briefly through her shirt. "These. You'd probably never forget, would you?"

No way in hell. I wish I hadn't seen them, though, not like how it actually happened.

When I don't answer, she pauses, hands still on her chest, then glances up at me. Her eyes are hooded, still partially hidden by unruly locks of reddish hair, and her face totally unreadable. "You'd probably like to see them again, wouldn't you?" she continues; her voice has dropped now, to a honey-sweet murmur. "I bet you've thought about that, haven't you? Thought about seeing them, maybe touching them. Am I right?"

Fuck. Who wouldn't? I open my mouth to answer nervously in the negative anyway, but something stops me, some unexpected flash of glorious insight.

She needs my attention. Not wants; needs. This is just like how she bugged me all day with the walkie-talkies, just like the fires when we were separated, just like the graffiti. Just like how she always used to bug me over the comm channels in our Evas. Hell, it's just like the first time she did this, when she was trying to explain thermal expansion at the NERV natatorium. If she's concerned that I'm not thinking of her, she has to do something to get my attention, to make sure she stays present in my thoughts somehow.

She needs that. She needs _me_.

And what that means is that I have power over her. It's a new sensation for me, a little dizzying, but there it is. I don't even have the first idea what to do with it, how to use it or even whether to, but I suppose it means I don't have to put up with her teasing anymore. Or at least I can do it too. Give her something to think about.

Only now remembering that my mouth is still open, I close it again, then lick my lips before speaking. "That's right." I stare her in the eye as I say it, hoping my voice doesn't sound too nervous, too faint. My heart is pounding like a drum roll, so loud in my ears I'd almost guess she can hear it.

Asuka blinks a few times at this, drawing slightly back from me, more in confusion than disgust. Then she frowns down at her chest again, actually stares at her own breasts for whatever reason. "You... might be surprised," she whispers. Squeezing herself once more, she lets her hands drop and sighs glumly, totally ignoring me.

What? Surprised because I won't see them again, or because I will? Or was she even talking to me at all? She seems troubled now.

Shaking my head, I wipe a few errant beads of sweat from my forehead. I... think I dodged a bullet there; maybe teasing her back isn't such a good idea. She'd probably win that war. I have something else to mention in any case, something I need to clear up if only for my own peace of mind. "What about Kaji?" I keep my voice as soft as I can, hoping she realizes I don't mean to be snide.

I'm not sure what I expect, but it doesn't happen; all she does is draw knees to her chest and stare mutely out over the ridge. Reflected firelight dances in the edges of her eyes.

When the silence suggests she's not going to answer, I shrug uncomfortably and shift again on the ground. I suppose if we're going to keep this sort of thing up, some folding chairs wouldn't kill us. And maybe an actual table of some sort while we're at it. As I ponder this, moonlight paints ghostly shadows on the empty city below the ridge.

"I... don't know that Kaji is coming back," she whispers eventually. "And... I'm... I don't think he ever really..."

Ever really loved her? I doubt it, not after what he told me about Misato. Not as more than a gifted student. I wonder if she thought he did, before this.

She doesn't add any more to the subject, and I leave her alone. Slowly the fire burns its way down, and I don't bother adding any more wood to it; lately our activity cycle has been determined largely by the sun, so since it's dark, it means it's almost bedtime. Although I wouldn't actually mind staying up longer with Asuka, even if we're just sitting like this next to the fire without saying anything. I'm glad neither of us feels the need to fill the silence with meaningless conversation.

Nevertheless, after maybe an hour, I climb to my feet and wander over to my blankets. She watches without twitching a muscle as I slip out of shoes, socks and shirt before slipping under the covers. Sometimes I wonder what's going through her head when she watches me like that; is she considering joining me, or merely watching me strip? Or are her eyes just following me because I happen to be moving? I guess this is the first night I've taken my shirt off too, but what's the point in letting it get too dirty too soon?

In moments, however, she herself retires for the night, crawling into her sleeping bag a few meters from mine, with the smoldering fire glowing away between us. I don't really get how she could sleep with me when we weren't spending the days together, but now that we are, she can't.

Whatever. I'm not going to worry about it. Rolling over, I hug the blankets to my chest and stare at the glowing coals until sleep claims me.


	12. Andantino Rallentando

Andantino Rallentando

I think I stare at him every morning now. Without motion on my part, just staring, head propped up on one hand as I gaze over across the cold remains of last night's fire and at his peaceful face. The sun's almost up now, and he's still asleep. I can be lazy, but I bet he actually sleeps more than I do.

I think I overreacted yesterday, trying to figure him out. After another night to sleep on it, I don't think I'm going to do that again today.

It's still weird, though, thinking of him as an equal. Maybe not an intellectual equal -- let's be honest -- but a personal equal, someone who's on my own level and should be taken seriously. If anything, my rash overtures from yesterday just served to confirm this; when I push, he now either doesn't give a damn, or he pushes back. Convincingly. I can make him uncomfortable, but only by going out on a limb in the process, by putting myself at risk somehow.

Strangely, those risks haven't come back to bite me. So far he's been considerate.

As I watch, he stirs in his sleep, rolling from his back to his side, facing me. An expression of vague thought crosses his features for a moment before the usual blandness returns.

I wonder what he dreams about. I don't usually remember my own.

Really, he's not bad company now. I kind of wish he'd say a little more, but I'd rather that he be quiet than chatter endlessly; it's more dignified this way. With the masturbation incident more or less out of the way, I don't even have much to hold against him anymore. I guess there's just the thing during Instrumentality, the help he wanted from me and to give me. And, of course, trying to kill me. Maybe I'll pop that one on him tonight.

The first rays of amber sunshine start angling in from the east. It's going to be warm again today.

Rolling my eyes, I unzip the sleeping bag and climb out of it. My shoes quickly find their way onto my feet, and then I step to the rest of my clothes to rummage through what I have. In truth I wish I could go around wearing less, but it's not really plausible. Shorts would be nice, but I don't even have any -- only jeans -- and I can't wear anything that leaves my stomach exposed, either.

As I search, my hands find a blue swimsuit I picked up earlier and then never used. Shinji's probably not even aware I have it, since it's been tucked away with my underwear. A two-piece, with a bikini top... yeah, not really something I can wear. I don't even know why I grabbed it. Auto-pilot, probably. It looks nice, though.

Blankets shift quietly behind me and I turn around to see Shinji stretching. Shortly his eyes blink open and he smiles at me. "Morning."

I nod briskly. "About time you woke up, slacker."

He shrugs, running a hand through his hair. "What's the rush? It's not like we're on a schedule... or... any, um..." He trails off, frowning at my hands.

I blink, realizing I'm still holding the swimsuit, then snatch it out of his sight. "Don't get any ideas, smartass. I was about to go dress." Turning my back on him once more, I find the rest of the clothes I need, moving quickly, almost jerkily. Don't get any ideas? That didn't even make any sense, not in that context. Sometimes I need to let my mind catch up with my mouth.

A moment later I stride off into the trees with water and washcloth in addition to clothes. Why the hell am I mad? It's not like he snuck up me.

Once to the spot I've been using to wash up, I peel down to my skin and do so. It's still not elegant, and frankly it's a little weird knowing Shinji uses the same washcloth, but at least with soap it's not too bad. Still, we should get another one. Or another half-dozen.

After cleaning I hold the swimsuit up in my hands, then sigh. It _is_ pretty, not that anyone but me will see it, and it'll serve well enough as underwear. Plus, if we split up again today, I can take my shirt off and ride around in just the top, maybe get some actual sun. On my scars.

With another sigh I put the damn thing on, then pull the rest of my clothes on over it. When I get back to the campsite, Shinji is still in his blankets.

"Your turn," I tell him, tossing the damp washcloth onto the clothesline we almost never use. "Go crazy."

"Yeah." Throwing his blankets aside, he rolls to his feet, grabs a few things and trots off into the forest.

When he gets back a short while later, I'm munching on half-stale crackers. "What do you want to do today?" It's easier to ask him stuff now.

He shrugs, dropping to sit beside me. "I don't care. How many of those are left?"

I eye him briefly, then peer into the box. "About half."

"Okay." Shaking his head, he runs a hand through his hair, then tugs on the baseball cap he's been wearing. "Did you still want to bring a whole bunch of food and water up here? If so, while we're in the city we could stop and get... cards, or some manga or something too, and then tomorrow we could just sit around and chill."

"Sure." That actually sounds surprisingly appealing. The sitting-around part, I mean.

Shinji doesn't add anything further, instead joining me in eating crackers. His wrist brushes mine on its way into the box, but he doesn't seem to notice. I play it cool as well.

After we're done, I put the box away, then stand and brush dirt from my jeans. "Let's go steal a truck."

He blinks up at me for a moment, then chuckles and nods. "Fine. Think any still work?"

"Beats me," I shrug, waiting for him to stand. "The one I took earlier worked okay. Not great, but okay."

"Oh, yeah." As we set off towards the road, he throws me a weird sideways glance. "What happened to that, anyway? When I saw you'd taken it, I figured the next time I saw you, you'd have it with you."

I laugh, reaching back to toy with my hair. "It, uh... I think it caught on fire."

After a moment he nods, unsurprised. I get the feeling he knows exactly what happened to it. Either that or he just knows me well enough to figure it went out in some spectacular fashion.

Once we're out to the road we both pause, frowning up and down the line of JSSDF vehicles along the far edge. "The keys were in the ignition of the one I took," I recall quietly, squinting against the morning sun as I gaze downhill. "And... Shinji... you should drive."

He just nods again, wise enough to keep his mouth shut. Without waiting for me he wanders over to the nearest of the trucks and tugs the door open. I follow slowly, watching as he twists the key in the ignition and waits. After a moment of frowning, he relaxes, then tries it again.

Eventually he sighs and faces me from the driver's seat. "No luck."

"The dome light's not even on," I point out, nodding past him. "Battery's dead."

Blowing cheeks out, he slips to the ground, then heads to the next one in line and repeats the drill. With the same result.

After the fourth failure the two of us exchange concerned looks. After the sixth, open worry paints his face. The eighth one finally rumbles to life, though.

Sighing with relief, I trot over to the other side and climb into the passenger's seat. Once the door is closed I can't see the meter or so of pavement between the truck and the edge of the road, so the window just shows me the steep tree-studded slope between here and the water far below.

Shinji waits patiently for me to get into place, then shifts the vehicle nervously into reverse. What follows, I can describe only as a functional definition of trial and error; it's clear he's never parallel-parked, or un-parked, before, and I find myself watching with a smug grin as he clunks bumpers at least a dozen times before finally scraping clear of the parking spot.

Once we're moving he takes it slowly, obviously extremely nervous driving something so big and heavy. At least on the way down the hill he establishes that the brakes work well.

After a while I get tired of this, and instead flip on the radio. Only static issues from the speakers, which I expected, but a quick cycle through the spectrum reveals absolutely nothing else, not even the faintest echo of a signal. I'd hoped that, if anyone else was around, they might have set up a little pirate station running on a generator or some such, just in the hopes of establishing contact with others. It was a silly thought, to be sure, but easy enough to check.

Flipping that off, I next try the military radio, but although the static carries a different quality, it's no less absolute. We're alone.

With a sigh I thumb the radio's power off and lean back in the hard plastic seat. Outside the window, a seemingly endless line of military hardware drifts past.

"Where do you want to go?" asks Shinji. "Another grocery store?"

I twist my lips at this. "Maybe. A big one, though, one where we can find stuff still in pallets in the back."

"Oh, yeah," he murmurs. "Good idea. How do we get in that way, though? The delivery doors and stuff are probably closed."

I smile at the window. "So? I bet this'll open them. And if not it can probably open a wall."

"We have to drive it back up the hill, Asuka," he notes tightly. "We can't hurt it too badly."

I shrug and opt not to answer. The morning sunlight glittering on the ruby water is almost blinding. Maybe I should get some sunglasses too.

Shinji drives around for maybe half an hour before finding a place that suits our purposes, and it takes a good five minutes of badgering by me until he finally growls and plants the truck through the loading dock door. After that, entry is trivially easy, and the smell isn't even that bad; apparently there are enough closed doors and whatnot between here and the rotting stuff that it doesn't make me want to vomit. A little bit of searching finds us a pallet full of cases of bottled water, just like I predicted, and after a little wrestling we're able to make a battery-powered forklift whine and protest enough to lift it into the truck.

After a few quick runs to pick up armfuls of more dried and canned goods, we leave the grocery store. From there Shinji takes us just across the street, to a strip mall; the only places of interest to us therein are a convenience store -- more food, without the smell of rot -- and a combination gift/toy store. While looking for food, Shinji is his usual boring self, fretting over how crappy most of the stuff is, but I seize the opportunity to stock up on a few different kinds of chips and candy. Just in case. The other place is also mostly full of crap, if of a different variety, but we walk out of there with a soccer ball, two decks of cards and a few board games that looked like they didn't totally suck. I also suggested, maybe a little too innocently, that we get a chessboard, but Shinji flatly refused to play against me.

From there we head about a kilometer away, to the library we were at once before. Though I'm smiling as we walk in, it's an uncomfortable expression; it was just after we left here that everything started going to hell.

I try not to dwell on it this time, though. I think we're both smarter now.

It doesn't take us long to get down to business. In short order we leave with no fewer than six full series of manga, not to mention a couple dozen classics I figured we should read. If left to his own devices I'm sure Shinji would have just stuck to the manga.

Once we're back in the truck, he sighs, then gives me a tired smile. "Back home, then?"

I shake my head. "I wanted to look for a generator," I remind him. "We may as well do it while we're here and we have this thing with us."

"Oh. Right." Twisting the ignition to life, he pauses, then clears his throat. "So, where would we, um... look for something like that?"

I open my mouth... then close it again. Huh. "I'm not sure," I admit uncomfortably. "Umm... let's check a hardware store first, maybe, and if not there... just drive, and see what jumps out at us." If worst comes to worst, I could always just _make_ one, I suppose.

Shinji shrugs and nods. "Sounds good."

A few hours later, however, I suspect he no longer thinks it sounds good, and I finally give him permission to head back up the hill. After the hardware store I had him check everywhere I could think of -- banks, schools, even an athletic field -- but there was nothing portable, nothing I could use.

On reaching our campsite again, he backs off the road and a short distance into the trees, as far as the truck will go. Then, after opening the back, the two of us stand there for a moment, wondering how to get the water out, as the pallet is all one piece. While I'm trying to figure out novel ways of leveraging it out, Shinji disappears, then returns shortly with the hunting knife, which he uses simply to cut the thing into its component cases. I give him a narrow look for that, but say nothing as I grab the first one and head back to the campsite.

When everything is finally moved and put away, we've got a small mountain of water tucked off to the side, among the trees. It's kind of strange, but I feel almost... proud. Maybe it's stupid, but we planned ahead, and now we have some very tangible and useful results to show for it.

"So how long will this last us?" wonders Shinji tiredly as we're staring at our handiwork. He's thrown his hat aside; maybe it got too hot.

I hesitate, counting quickly. "Assuming conservatively -- that we go through a case a day, including cooking and cleaning water -- it should last us over a month." Damn. We'll have to think of something else to do now, when not scrounging.

He shakes his head mutely, eyeing me sideways. "We're rich."

I laugh, but stop quickly. He's right. Money isn't gold or industry anymore. Money is water now. Of course, with it sitting all over the place in the city, and only two people, the distinction is perhaps both premature and meaningless.

"Anyway," he sighs, cracking his back with a grimace, "I can start cooking if you want. It's almost dark."

"What? You're kidding me." Frowning, I glance up at the sky, but he's right; the sun is almost to the mountain peaks to our west. "I can't believe we spent all day doing that crap."

"It was your idea," he recalls, then wanders off, towards the firewood.

Mimicking him under my breath, I run a hand through my hair, then make my way to sit near the firepit. I kind of like watching him cook anyway.

After a meal of spicy Thai noodles -- it's almost all noodles in the evening now -- I clean up quickly, then settle in next to him while he's staring at the sky. I don't know what he sees up there. "Hey, Shinji?"

"Yeah?"

I chew a lip, suddenly uncertain. I want to ask about something important to me, but after today, I feel kind of... good. And I don't really want to argue, for once. And anyway, he helped, and might perhaps deserve a night off from this stuff.

"Asuka?"

I sigh, giving my head a toss, and fix him with a lidded stare. He gazes back at me, eyes widening slightly, probably wondering what the hell is coming next, and the smile that touches my lips in response to his discomfiture is genuine. "You're handy," I remark, letting my eyes roam down his reclining person, mostly to mess with him.

Sadly, he merely nods, though his cool facade is somewhat spoiled by a visible swallow. "Yeah? You're pulling your weight too."

Hesitating, I study him sharply, wondering what he meant; was that a flirty remark I just didn't get, a comment about my weight, or a straightforward compliment? He's staring straight back at me as I think, not checking me out at all, but that doesn't necessarily mean anything.

Eventually I chuckle, shaking my head as I shift my attention to the city below. It's actually fun to tease him now, since I never really know what he's going to do. It's almost a shame he's... just... yeah.

I decide to leave him alone for the rest of the night. I don't want him getting the wrong idea.

The next day starts late and moves slowly, for once, and I find I kind of enjoy it. After a breakfast of more crackers, followed by some cinnamon red-hots I found yesterday, we pull out the collected literature we scored at the library. I can tell Shinji wants to dive right into the manga, but he makes a show of going through the actual books first.

Then he pauses, holding two of them, one in each hand. "What the hell?" he mutters. "You got both _The Wealth of Nations _and_ The Communist Manifesto?_"

"Why not?" I shrug. "Read both sides. Get educated. I actually read them both in college, so they're for you."

He shoots me a dark look, then sighs, placing them back in the pile. "Thanks. Though I'm not making any promises as to when I'm... wait, _Mein Kampf?_ You've read that too?"

I grin. "Actually, no. But I saw it on the shelf and it's not like anyone else is about to read it."

Shinji sighs again. "Oh. I figured since you're German, you would... uh..."

He trails off, watching my face, but I'm just lifting my eyebrows, trying to decide whether to punish his ignorance or his insensitivity. Eventually settling on the former, I punch his knee, hard. "No, I wouldn't. And I'm technically American, dumbass." Seriously. He's lucky I'm so easy-going and hard to offend.

"Sorry," he murmurs, grimacing as he sets the book aside. "I didn't mean... Sorry. Did you get anything _not_ related to politics somehow?"

I give him a withering, impatient look. "Have you even looked at the pile, moron? I'm not going to tell you everything I picked out when it's all right there." Curriculum in Berlin was geared largely towards Western classics, of course, so given the chance I picked up _The Tale of Genji_ and _The Book of Five Rings_ yesterday, though I'm not certain I'll be able to read them very well. I threw in a couple of Russian literary titles as well for good measure, though I made the conscious decision to leave _War and Peace_ on the shelf, because... honestly.

Shinji just grunts as he flips through the pile, paying token attention to the classic titles. When done he simply moves onto the manga, quickly selecting the first of an action-oriented series, something about a guy with superpowers who steals cars.

In truth I grab manga as well. Just a few months ago I probably would have preferred something centered around fighting, but... stuff changes. Now I just want something stupid and funny. The story of a bumbling ninja, I figure, will serve well enough.

As the morning wears on, Shinji and I both read in silence. It's good to laugh at something, good to hear him laugh every now and then too.

Later, when it's almost midday, he puts his book down and stretches. "Hey, you know what?"

Frowning, I mentally mark my place in my current volume, then raise an eyebrow at him. He interrupted me. "What?"

"We should go see the crater one of these days," he decides, twisting to stare at the massive hole in the city's center. "The one from the GeoFront... or Black Moon, or whatever they called it."

They? They who? I dismiss the question with a tiny shake of my head, then fix him with a frown. "Why?"

He shrugs, still gazing thoughtfully out over the ridge. "It's... important."

"It's a hole in the ground."

"It's..." Blinking, he shifts to face me at an angle, blue eyes meeting my own without humor. "Don't you want closure?"

"Closure?" I snort. "The whole city's closure, Shinji. It's empty. The whole world is. You can't even look at the ocean, or at the sky, without remembering that."

He rolls his shoulders irritably, returning to stare at the city. "It was just a thought," he murmurs. "Sorry."

I shake my head, trying not to sigh, and grab my manga again. Thanks to jerk-face, I'm not really in a mood to be entertained anymore, but I keep at it anyway, hoping that the farcical adventures in the printed pages will carry my attention to more trivial matters.

They don't. After a good ten minutes without turning I page, I finally sigh and let the book fold itself back shut. "Shinji."

He jerks his head up to watch me, almost solicitously. "Hmm?"

I feel a frown stealing over my forehead, and I don't meet his gaze. It's kind of a strange feeling, but I actually feel like I can ask him about stuff now and get honest answers, not drama. The answers may not be to my liking, but I don't have to worry that he's providing them out of self-pity or a desire to please or any such crap. "Why did you try to kill me?"

My words come out almost as a whisper. I grimace, closing my eyes.

Shinji is silent for long moments before answering. "I was going to ask which time," he admits softly, "but the second time was sort of... a continuation of the first for me, so they're the same reasons. You really want to go into it?"

I nod. This needs to be cleared up.

He sighs. "Asuka, you... betrayed me."

Startled, I frown at him before realizing I've opened my eyes again. "What do you mean?"

His brows draw slightly together, though whether in thought or anger, I can't say. "I needed help," he whispers, now staring at his open hands. "You remember what it was like there, how hard it could be to hold yourself together; I needed to talk to someone who could help me find solid ground, so I wouldn't just disappear. I was asking you to save my life. And yeah, I know we didn't really get along -- I get that -- but I figured that, on some level, there would be some... some basic human compassion between us. I figured that you'd help save my life. And then you didn't."

I chew a lip, pondering this. "I was right, though," I note quietly. "You didn't need my help. You didn't get it, and you're still here."

"I almost wasn't," he counters, his voice and manner flat. "I was going to let the world stay like that. It actually took talking to Rei before I was sure I'd stay alive, before I changed my mind."

"Then I was right about that instead," I point out. "Anyone could have helped you. You'd use sympathy from anyone." I haven't thought about this too much since coming back, but now it's all bubbling to the surface again, the anger, the disgust.

"I didn't want it from anyone." His voice rises; he's getting angry too. "I wanted it from you."

I regard him coldly. "Why?"

"Because you needed help too," he snaps. "Do you think I couldn't tell how you felt? A lot of that was my doing, so I thought I'd do the right thing and help you get over it. It wasn't being selfish, Asuka; people help each other out when they have to. Grown-up people do, anyway."

"Yeah?" I can feel my lips peeling angrily back. Grown-up people? "You were so fucking pathetic. You couldn't even lift your head to stare me in the eye. Does that shout confidence to you? Does that really sound like a person who's going to have any success understanding, let alone addressing, my own problems? You think you wanted to help me _now_, because that's what you'd do _now_, because you've grown since then, but there's no way you could have done it at the time. You just wanted a crutch to hold up your broken self."

A strange look, a cold one, passes over Shinji's face, and he climbs to his feet to stare down at me. "So full of your own problems," he whispers, and it occurs to me he's actually shaking, like he's just holding to his temper by one frayed thread. "So worried about yourself. You wanted to let me die because I wouldn't be able to _help you enough_. And yet here you are, the only one here besides me. Even without my help, you were still so strong that you're the only person in the world who's made it back."

I blink at this, confused. Is that really what he thinks about me? He doesn't get it, that I was fleeing, not returning triumphantly.

"And so I just... I started to _hate_ you," he continues, staring at nothing, shaking hands reaching out to squeeze... nothing. "And that was it. There was nothing there, no goodwill at all anymore, no concern. Nothing. Just poison. So I strangled you."

He's not entirely right. It wasn't that I was indifferent to his fate -- I wanted to see him stronger -- but I didn't, and still don't, have any interest in playing the crutch for someone who's nothing but needs. I remember my own surprise when his hands appeared around my neck, remember how it suddenly made sense how much I'd hurt him. Like him, I could tell that any sense of friendship or camaraderie between us was just... shattered forever. Never to be put back together. So I just... didn't fight him. It seemed like the best thing to do. Let myself die. At least one of us would be happy then.

Slowly I rise to my own feet, wondering how to explain it to him without making him even madder. Wondering if it's possible to explain at all.

"And then on the beach..." He draws a shuddering breath, staring coldly at me. "You just... it all came back, and I didn't even realize what I was doing at first. But when I did, I didn't try to stop. And this was even after I learned what little I could from that whole thing, learned that life is pain and you can never escape it and that's okay."

So even to bleak life-is-pain Shinji, I was so upsetting he wanted to kill me. I guess I was right about all possible concern between us having been crushed. Which makes me wonder idly how it is that we're even standing here at all, talking about it.

Blue eyes narrow to regard me with hot accusation. "You could just be... such a bitch, Asuka. You expected me to know everything about how to act around you, to know exactly what you wanted all the time, without you ever having to tell me. I'd never had a friend in my _life_ before coming to Tokyo-3, and it was hard to talk to anyone, let alone you, but you would snap at me when I tried to ask you anything about yourself, and then you would get mad because I didn't understand you. I got so tired of your shit."

Yeah, that's probably all true. I've never really thought about it from his point of view... and he probably hasn't thought about it from mine. I hadn't had any friends either, then; I had no peers back in Germany. That was most of what made the move to Japan tolerable; I was going to be surrounded by people my own age who'd realize how awesome I was and look up to me.

He's staring at me, I realize. Waiting for me to argue back, to make some excuse or defense so he can tear into me again.

Well, I don't have any more defenses. There's nothing I can say.

Instead I reach forward and touch him again. The palm of my hand slides across his cheek; fingers whisper into the hair on the back of his head while my thumb traces an idle line down his ear. It feels better this time, touching him without bandages between his skin and mine. Even seeing the linear scar on my hand doesn't really bother me.

His eyes grow wide; his breath catches. I can feel my own pulse in the palm of my hand, against his skull. It's slow, a tranquil rhythm.

Eventually he tears his gaze away from mine, pulls away from me, and sighs heavily. "Asuka, I'm..." Swallowing, he drops to sit on the ground, then runs a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry. I got... a little carried away, I guess." His voice is hoarse.

Lips thinned, I fold myself up and sit carefully beside him, not really certain what to say. I can feel pieces shifting around in my head, though; something just happened, and I've almost got it figured out.

As I settle into place, he glances over at me, his face now open and worried. He's back to his usual sincerity. "It... must have been hard for you, too," he murmurs, not quite catching my eye. "I shouldn't have... shouldn't have said that stuff. Shouldn't have done it."

And now he's regretful? Things click into place; I _get_ it.

Tenderness breaks him. It gets through his armor, makes him nice.

And there's a corollary: I can actually be tender to him, and he won't come back and hurt me. He won't push me away, or punish my gesture with laughter or biting comments.

I may have to verify this, but first there are some things I need to know. "Do you still hate me?"

"No. Asuka... no, of course not." He shakes his head slowly. "Not to put things too lightly, but you... sort of... caught me on a bad day, there. Things got a little out-of-hand, and I overreacted."

I nod slightly, staring straight ahead, not really seeing anything. "Do you still need me?"

This time it takes him a moment to respond. "If you left again," he answers quietly, "I wouldn't die. So not like I did before. But if you left... it would hurt. So... I think so."

That's good to know, I guess; it's not just a one-way street. And it seems he really does trust me, with more than just his life and safety. Even I don't feel comfortable revealing that much to him about my own need.

"So what about you?" he murmurs after a moment. "Do you still think I'm pathetic?" Above and around us, leaves rustle, and a breeze carries the smell of pine.

I shake my head. "You're strong now."

He doesn't answer, and I find myself just watching the motionless sprawl of suburban Tokyo-3 below. It's a strange situation I'm in now; I can understand, more or less, why he's done the stuff he has, why he's hurt me. And, as it happens, I don't really blame him anymore. If our positions had been reversed, I'd have done the same, or worse, and in fact I might have done worse anyway. As such, there's no reason to feel the anger that's dominated so much of the time I've spent around him in the past, and so that anger is now correspondingly absent.

It's a... new feeling for me. A comfortable feeling.

But first I have to make sure I'm right. First I need to take a risk, to expose some weakness. I think I have him figured out, at least for this stuff, but if not... this is going to hurt. "It's weird."

"Hmm? What is?"

I take a deep breath, then let it out slowly. "I... don't know what to do now," I admit, keeping my voice low and even. "We're set for supplies, so there's no real danger that we'll die anytime soon, but... I have no goals. For the first time in my life I have no Eva, nothing sitting in the future and putting everything else in perspective. I just... now that the trivial stuff is over, I don't even know where to start."

There. What do you think of that, Shinji? I have weaknesses too, like you.

"Really?" When I don't react, he sighs. "I don't get that at all, Asuka."

I turn my head fractionally towards him. "What do you mean?"

He studies me sideways, then shrugs. "It's just that... you seem like you could do literally anything. I mean, even at the house, I thought it was weird that you still wanted to pilot when there were so many other things you could do. But now, after it's been so long and the world is still so empty..." He forces a laugh, shaking his head as he squints off over the ridge. "Look, I have no idea how a desalination plant works. The world needs fresh water now way more than it needs Eva pilots, so you're like... a hero. And all I am is some kid. So if you don't know what to do, I'm guessing it's because you have too many options to choose from, not too few."

My face gets inexplicably tight at this, and I'm careful not to look at him. A hero? No one's ever really... ever really talked to me like that. I mean, Kaji used to when I would ace college exams and stuff, but it didn't feel like this does. Not this sincere.

"So it just seems weird to me that you'd worry," continues Shinji earnestly. "I mean, I'm not worried, and I'm not even you; I'm just_ with_ you. So, if anything... hey, are you okay?" He pauses, and I can feel his eyes on me. "Are you cr--?"

Squeezing my eyes shut, I lower my head, letting hair spill past my cheeks and into my lap. Okay, so... I guess that answers my question. He's safe. I trust him. The guy who tried to kill me.

Does that make me an idiot? Or are friends supposed to look past stuff like that?

Clothing shifts beside me. "I'm sorry, Asuka; I didn't mean to... to, um... we can talk about something else, if you want."

Rolling my eyes, I shake my head and deliver an absent backhanded slap to his knee. "I'm going to go back to reading," I decide. There's nothing else I really need to get out of him, is there?

"Okay." He chuckles, obviously relieved. "Or we could find some lunch."

"I'm not hungry yet." I actually feel a little drained; if anything, I could almost go for a nap, though it's probably not even noon.

"Okay," he repeats happily, stretching out on the ground beside me. He's hungry, but he's willing to wait for me. "Let me know, then."

I nod, swinging my head slowly to regard my manga lying where I left it a few meters away, before the argument. After a moment I rise, touching Shinji's shoulder briefly, and go join it. When I find where I left off, the impetus to read just isn't there. Again.

Instead, despite the open book in my lap I find my eyes drawn to Shinji just lying there sprawled, apparently engrossed in his own reading. He's a mystery now, somehow, an anomaly, an exclamation point with no words preceding it. I'd expected to spend the rest of my life just barely tolerating him, keeping my loathing in check, but now it occurs to me that I might actually... enjoy hanging out with him. And I don't really even know how it got to this point.

Eventually I shake my head slightly and frown at the open pages before me. This'll take some getting used to.


	13. Tranquillo E Dolce Reprise

Tranquillo E Dolce (Reprise)

"Shinji, I'm hungry now."

I blink up from my book, but Asuka's just watching me patiently. Finally I nod, not entirely certain why she needed my agreement. "Okay." Pushing myself to my feet, I head for our now-organized stack of food stocks. "What do you want? Canned pineapple, canned mushrooms, canned lychees, canned oranges or canned red beans?"

She makes an uncomfortable face at this, then sighs. "Just throw me the chips."

"What?" I grimace. "You know those aren't very g--"

"Bite me. Just throw them over." The usual heat is gone from her voice.

Shaking my head, I do as she asks, then pull out some pineapple for myself. With can opener and chopsticks in hand I drop to the ground next to her, and she doesn't say anything about it. I remember a time when if I'd sat anywhere near her it would have earned me a shrill tirade and maybe a bruise or two.

We eat in silence. Or at least I do; she crunches absently through her damn chips. I didn't even look to see what kind they were, but they smell like something only a European would eat, like salt-and-animal-intestine flavor or something. If they make her happy, though, I'm not going to complain.

I don't know that she _is_ happy, though. A cautious sideways glance shows her face to be subdued and unreadable, staring at nothing as she eats. She doesn't seem angry, though she certainly has any number of reasons to be mad at me. If anything she just seems thoughtful.

I guess I'm feeling a little contemplative as well, at the moment. I have to admit I have no idea what to expect from her anymore. She seems to like picking fights, but then afterwards we somehow both end up less angry than before. I'm actually a little surprised she didn't ask me about the strangling before, like right away, but whatever the reason, it's probably for the best; I doubt I could have explained it nearly so thoroughly right afterwards.

I can't believe I got so angry explaining it even now, though. Maybe it was just... curdling inside or something. Either that or her obvious disgust just pissed me off again.

Really, I've... done a lot of stuff to her I'm not proud of. I'm glad she's still around, though.

Eventually she seems to finish eating, rolling the opened top of the bag halfheartedly down to its middle. After a moment she holds an open hand out to me, fingers twitching towards her palm in the universal "gimme" gesture. Her wrist is actually sitting on my leg, near my knee, but she doesn't seem to care.

Rather than give her the can, I instead turn my head to face her, then lift my eyebrows insolently as I pop another piece of pineapple into my mouth. She just stares back at me without expression, blue eyes barely blinking, new birthmark half-concealed by a spill of red hair. I chew slowly, maintaining eye contact.

She touches me now. I wonder if this goes both ways.

After a moment I offer a smile and hand the can of pineapple out to her. She swipes it without a word, then turns to stare out at the city as she eats from it.

She uses my chopsticks now. I figured that would at least warrant a snide remark.

Bored, I grab the bag of chips from in front of her, then try one. I'm... not too thrilled, I find. When Asuka finishes the pineapple pieces, I steal the can back from her and drink the syrup just to wash the taste out of my mouth.

After rinsing the can out and tossing it into our trash pile, I go back to my book and Asuka does the same. Once again a complete silence descends over our campsite.

This is killing me. Just like when she first came back to me, I'm burning with things I could be asking her or telling her. Foremost among my curiosity, of course, is the key question: what the hell is going on, anyway? What _is_ all this? I don't feel comfortable breaching the topic yet, though; after this last argument, it feels like we've reached some silent accord and I am loath to break it. Despite her heated accusations earlier she seems content now, like all she wanted to do was get the matter off her chest.

Needless to say, I don't get much reading done. I'm sure she doesn't either.

After dinner, we end up just sitting together next to the firepit once more. Even though dusk has stolen all but the last fading fire of the sun's presence, with our own blaze it would be more than bright enough to play cards or something. I wonder if she even wants to.

"Shinji." Her low murmur dispels my introspection. "I can trust you, can't I?"

"What?" Frowning, I turn to give her a questioning look, but she's just nodding slightly back at me like the question is already settled and she's just waiting for me to say so. "Trust me how?" I figured there would be another conversation coming tonight -- earlier I saw her staring at me for over half an hour straight for no reason -- but I had no idea what it would be about.

"You know," she clarifies, shrugging. "Trust you."

I nod slowly, trying to clear my frown. Thanks, Asuka. "I'm not planning to hurt you, if that's what you mean," I explain, "and I wouldn't... betray you or anything." I reserve the right to hurt her through my own stupidity, though; I can't guarantee not to do a thing like that.

She merely nods once more, eyes going distant. "I know. Shinji... I'm scarred."

"What do you mean, scarred?" Scarred inside? I think everyone in the world will be, after Instrumentality.

Her lips tighten in frustration, like she thinks I'm being dumb on purpose, but rather than answer she scrambles around to kneel facing me. Crossing arms over her stomach, she grips the bottom of her shirt, a plain black thing with a pink teddy bear on the chest, and starts pulling it over her head.

I watch in paralyzed fascination, but she's wearing that blue swim top on underneath it. Of course she is. Why wouldn't she wear something? As she tosses the shirt aside, though, I can see exactly what she's talking about, and she even kneels upright to let me see better.

She's... pink. Mostly pink, anyway, from the waistline of her jeans up to shortly below where the shirt used to cover, and the discoloration reaches from side to side, wrapping almost around to her back in some places. The edges of these overlapping marks are jagged, even angular, calling to mind the shapes of stab or bite wounds. I know exactly how they all got there, too. I saw her Eva after it was nearly skeletonized by the feasting mass-produced units.

These are her wounds. She carried them with her.

This... really must have messed her up. Maybe I can help somehow, though.

She's watching me, waiting for a response of some sort. Leaning in, I study her skin a little more closely. "These are like the ones on your face and hand, right?"

"Yeah."

I lift a hand, and when she doesn't move away, I touch skin on the left side of her stomach. It's smooth, not like scar tissue at all, and faint goosebumps even form briefly in the aftermath of my touch. "These aren't scars," I decide softly, unable to look away, or to move my hand away. "They're birthmarks."

"They weren't there when I was born," she counters flatly. "They're scars."

As she talks I slide my hand around until I'm almost gripping her by the small of the waist, but she still doesn't make any move to pull back. I'm... touching her. And she's letting me. I feel like I'm petting a wild tiger and somehow not getting mauled.

This is the closest she's ever let me get to her. Even the kiss was more guarded.

After a moment I close my eyes... and can't even tell the difference between her marks and normal skin. She's really worried about this?

Swallowing, I glance up, and find that she's staring down at me, almost scowling, eyes hard and glittering with reflected firelight. She's waiting for me to say something else, daring me to say the wrong thing.

She doesn't want sympathy; if so, she'd have shown me before. She doesn't want to hear that they're not that big of a deal; that would mean that they _are_ an issue, just not _much_ of one. She doesn't want an assurance that she's still beautiful; again, that implies that there's something to be beautiful _despite_, and she wouldn't believe me anyway.

Eventually I nod, letting my hand drop from her skin, not without regret. "Yeah, they're there," I acknowledge plainly, meeting her gaze. "They concern you somehow, do they?"

Her eyes narrow further, if possible, like she's thinking through my words from every possible angle to find all imaginable insult therein. I just stare back up at her, acutely aware that she's almost half-naked, trying desperately to keep from thinking about it. Is she prolonging this on purpose? Just to mess with me?

Eventually, though, she snorts, even chuckling; a smile curves her lips, small but genuine. With a shake of her head she sits back down where she was; one hand grabs her shirt from where it lies, and she proceeds unhurriedly to slip it back on.

I try to conceal a relieved sigh, instead staring contemplatively into the fire. Wow. That's, um... that's a new one. I'm sure the marks are what's on her mind, but I'm still stunned she just stripped out of her shirt in front of me. I feel bad brushing aside the birthmarks and focusing on that... but isn't that what she wanted? For it not to matter to me?

Once clothed again, she settles into place beside me, likewise staring at the crackling blaze in the firepit. "They... start down here," she adds softly, touching her hip just below where it starts curving back in, "and go up."

I nod. "So... everything between, um, is still... uh..."

"Yeah. It's still functional."

"Okay. Yeah." I take a deep breath, then blow it out.

"Perv."

"Whatever." It was a valid question, though I suppose if there were any other problems, I'd have heard about it long before now. "Wanna play cards or something?"

She shifts vaguely. "Strip poker? Is that what you were hoping for?" Despite her accusatory words, her tone is just... conversational. Like this is normal.

I give her a doubtful sideways glance; I'm trying to move onto a lighter topic, and she's not letting me. "You're still on that?"

Blue eyes slide to meet mine. "Still on what?" The faintest outline of a smile touches her lips.

Despite myself I laugh, then shift my gaze back to the fire and laugh quietly again. "Okay. Strip poker if you want, but I was going to say something like war, or speed."

"Fine." She sighs sharply, giving her hair an absent toss. "We'll start with war. You're right; we can work our way up to the rest."

My God. She's... she's teasing, right? I can't even tell from her voice; she sounds serious. "We, um... yeah, I'll get the cards." Swallowing, I hop to my feet before she can say anything else, then rummage around in one of the backpacks.

When I get back to the fire, Asuka has dragged her sleeping bag over, and is busy shaking it clean of dirt and pine needles. At my frown, she pauses and gestures vaguely, an effort ruined somewhat by the fact that she's still holding the thing with both hands. "We don't want cards on the ground, Professor. Unless you want to clean them all off after we play."

I say nothing, just stare back at her, and after a moment she grumbles something and resumes getting our playing surface ready. When she's done, I sit cross-legged on one end and start getting the cards out of the box.

"Take your shoes off when you're on my bed," scolds Asuka, following her own advice before sitting to face me. "Dolt."

Pausing, I give her an incredulous look. "Asuka... the other whole side of this thing is on the ground. I'm not making it dirtier."

"And yet the soles of your shoes can catch on the surface," she continues evenly, "and I don't want it torn because of your numbskullery. Aces are high."

"Fine." Tossing the card box at her, I instead start tugging my shoes off. When I'm ready, she's shuffling the cards. She's better than I am, I can see; she can bridge them back into place after a round of shuffling, which I lack the dexterity to do.

Shortly she starts dealing. Since the cards are new, they want to slide over each other after she tosses each one to me, but I just let them accumulate. Soon twenty-six copies of the same cigarette company logo are staring up at me, and I neaten them up into a pile before placing my first card opposite hers.

"I've never played speed before," she admits as she collects both cards and places another. "How is it you know a game I don't?"

I smile to myself; one of the reasons I suggested a silly game like this is that you can't help but talk during it, and I was tired of the silence. "I learned it from Kensuke."

"That's even worse," she mutters, collecting the second trick as well. "How does _Kensuke_ know a game I don't?"

"Beats me. He went through a phase where he wanted to learn card tricks." I think back for a moment, then shrug. "So every day at lunch he'd try to show Toji and me a new one. Only he wasn't very good, so usually we just played actual card games afterwards."

"That sounds about right." She smiles slightly, shuffling a fifth trick into her victory pile; I've only taken three. "How do you play it?"

"Um..." I watch, frowning, as she collects a sixth trick. "Basically there are two face-up cards in the middle, and two face-down piles. We each have a hand, and you're always trying to get rid of your cards by putting them onto the face-up piles. It's kind of hard to... I'll just show you later, when this game is done."

She shrugs. "Fine. Shouldn't be too long anyway; I'm crushing you."

I laugh. "In a game that's totally random. Good work."

"Ah," she sighs, neatening her victory pile. "Totally random, is it? I dealt, didn't I?"

"Yeah, but I watched you," I counter. "I don't think you're good enough to stack the deck when I'm watching you shuffle."

She grins at me, eyes glittering. "We'll see, won't we?"

What a smartass. "I suppose we will."

"Yeah. Where were you?"

"What?"

"When I fought the mass-produced Evas. Where were you?"

I blink, just staring at her for the moment it takes me to process this radical leap in topics. She seems to be paying attention to the game, though, only bothering to meet my gaze when I don't answer right away, and even then she just waits patiently for me. "I... I couldn't get to my Eva." My voice has dropped to a whisper.

Her brows draw together at this. "Why not?"

"Bakelite." I swallow, absently fingering the card on top of my pile. "I think the JSSDF put it there."

"Bakelite? Then how did I get into mine?" By her tone, I could almost doubt we're talking about what I was doing when she was killed. "You must have been late, if they were able to flood the chamber between our launches. Why? And are you going to play a card or what?"

I twitch, then flip over a seven and lose it against Asuka's queen. "I was... basically... paralyzed with guilt over having... um, masturbated over you." There; I can say it aloud, without euphemisms. "And killing Kaworu." That's something else I feel awful about, but... there's not much I can do about it now. And I'd probably still do the same if given the choice again. "So Misato physically dragged me there, then slammed me into the elevator and... and died, I think. She'd been shot."

Asuka pauses at this, then makes a face. "That sucks. I just figured she got swept up with everyone else."

"Yeah, well... a bullet or a visit from Rei, it's all the same in the end, I suppose." I shake my head.

"I suppose." She chews a lip, waiting while we turn our victory piles into operating piles. "So basically you couldn't get to your Eva in time to help me when I was awake, because you were sulking over how you'd hurt me when I was sedated."

"Um... yeah."

"Good work, Shinji."

"Yeah." I manage to win a trick, and as I'm sweeping the cards to my new victory pile I glance up at Asuka, only to find she's watching my hands. Watching the order I put the cards away in. What the hell? "Asuka... are you counting cards?"

Blue eyes dart sharply to my own; she's probably surprised I noticed. Then she grins. "When you're as smart as I am, everything is easy."

I stare at her blankly for a moment, then at my deck. "You... know exactly what I have right now," I realize. "Don't you."

"Yeah. Twenty-one cards." She frowns briefly at one of her fingernails. "On top is the ace of diamonds. Then the four of clubs. Jack of clubs. Six of spades. Nine of--"

"Right. I get it." Flipping over my top card, I slump slightly on seeing it's the ace of diamonds. Asuka flips over the three of hearts, then shrugs when I collect. She's arranging her own spoils to match up against mine, to minimize my gains and maximize hers. "Asuka, you suck."

"You only wish." She doesn't even have the grace to smile when the next trick results in a war that nets her five of my own cards. "So you got to the Eva cage and just sat there, or what? Was the JSSDF still there? I know they moved out when the MP Evas showed up, or around then."

"Yeah, I sat there." Another trick wins me a five, with a six. "I sat and listened to you fight and win, and then lose. And then I listened to Maya losing it on the net because your power ran out and they started to eat you."

I'm not watching her face, but her hands tremble briefly at my words. "Yeah, I... remember that." Her voice is soft, her tone thoughtful. She pauses, but only for a moment, before her next card finds its way to our synthetic playing surface. "Then how did you get into Unit-01?"

"It... moved by itself," I explain. "By herself, to break the Bakelite and let me in. I did all of that stuff at the end without a power cable or battery backup."

She snorts. "You have all the luck. I didn't get Unit-02 to do that until right before the white fuckers speared me to the ground."

I shrug helplessly. "If I'm so lucky, why do I have only about a dozen cards left?"

"Because intelligence beats luck."

And yet intelligence didn't help her much in that last battle. I glance up, trying to think of a way not to kill the mood, and see she's smiling at me. There's a... a sad note in her eyes, though, that says she knows exactly what I'm thinking... but she's still smiling.

After a moment I smile too, at the cards. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess it does."

"Of course it does," she scoffs. "Would I say something like that if it weren't true?"

"Don't get me started."

"Alright, fine." She chuckles anyway, richly, as the spoils of another war go to her. "Poor Shinji. Do you want me to spot you a few cards?"

"Bite me." I've got just eight left, now. "Maybe we should forget cards, and tomorrow we'll play soccer or something."

"Soccer, huh?" Her fingers tap thoughtfully against one knee. "You didn't get a pump for the ball, did you? If it's still in the box, I doubt it's fully inflated."

She has an answer for everything, doesn't she? "Yeah, well, maybe _you're_ not fully-inflated either."

"You don't think so?" she wonders, sounding genuinely curious. Leaving her cards alone for the moment, she once again cups her breasts thoughtfully. "Do you really think you're going to land someone better-inflated than me?"

"No," I groan. She's really flirty now. What changed?

Sapphire eyes grin at me for the moment it takes her to remember our game. "Now let's get this rout over with so you can teach me how to slaughter you in speed."

"Fine," I sigh, trying not to sound too petulant. My next card is a jack, but loses to her king. At least now, with her, everything is over too quickly to hurt for very long.


	14. Molto Allegro

Molto Allegro

When morning comes, I stretch and sit up, then start watching Shinji in his sleep. It no longer feels strange to do so.

I find that I enjoyed last night. Immensely. Just sitting around, bullshitting with him over a few games of cards... I don't know why, but that was easily the must fun I've had in a very long time. Even now I'm looking forward to tonight because then I'll be able to do it again. If he wants to.

I think he does, though. He enjoys that sort of time together; I can see it in his face. He's not very good at keeping his thoughts to himself. Maybe tonight we can break out one of the board games, but if not, cards would be just as good. Really, the actual activity probably doesn't matter much; it's just a pretext to hang out. And we never got to play strip poker.

Sighing, I shake my head slightly without taking my eyes off the slumbering Shinji. I'm teasing him now when he isn't even awake, and I'm not talking. It just... comes so easily, now. So naturally. One of these days he's going to call me out on it, probably, tell me to put up or shut up. I wonder what I'll do when that happens. Back down, I suppose, for a while, and then just go back to doing it. It's too fun to stop, especially when he shoots back at me.

Gradually the eastern sky grows from black to navy to peach, though intervening trees still hide the sun. Shinji remains unmoving, sleeping on his side, facing me. I wonder if he fell asleep that way, watching me.

I'm waiting for him to wake up, I realize, for no other reason than that, when he does, I can start interacting with him again. I enjoy that so much. Why couldn't all our time before have been like this? Why just recently?

Oh yeah. All that, uh... all the stuff that happened.

Well, anyway. Things are a little different now. He's not really a bad guy, I don't think; he's just made a lot of mistakes. Like I have.

He hasn't stirred yet. He probably won't, not until I get up.

And really, I should do so shortly. Part of me would like nothing more than to spend another day slacking up here, but I'm hesitant actually to do that; if I get too lazy, it could rub off and laziness can probably kill us now. Also, having heard what Shinji thinks about my being able to do stuff... it makes me want to _do _it, to show him he's right.

Lips twisting idly, I climb out of my sleeping bag and slip shoes on. As soon as I start rummaging through my clothes, I can hear Shinji stirring and stretching behind me. "You awake?"

"Mmm. Yeah, now."

Nodding, I turn half-around to see him rubbing his eyes. "I want to get a generator today. What do you think?"

He pauses, then squints doubtfully at me. His hair is in total disarray, a casualty of sleep and hat-wearing. "Again? Do you have a better idea where to look this time?"

"I... no." I wave a hand, dismissing that idea. "No, I've been thinking. It would probably be easier just to build one, using some whole components from other ones, and I've already seen what I need. So we don't need to go searching."

"Oh." His skepticism disappears into a pleasant neutrality. "Sure. What do you want to use it for, though? We have a bunch of water already."

"Proof of concept," I shrug, shuffling over to find our bathing supplies. "It'll give me something to think about, and I'm sure we'll find a use for it. And anyway, if I hook a pump up to it, I could make a thing that just sat in or next to the water, and slowly filled a reservoir of _clean _water. Every now and then we could have actual showers."

"Oh." He sounds impressed at this. "I wouldn't say no to that."

"I didn't mean together, smartass."

"Sure you didn't."

Smiling at the supplies in my hands, I rise to my feet without looking at him. "I'm going to wash up. I won't be long." As I head into the trees, I blink, then frown. I didn't tell him not to peek, did I?

Enh. He'll be fine.

After a quick scrubdown and a clean t-shirt, I wander back to the campsite and throw my wet stuff over the clothesline. What am I going to need today, then? I don't want to build an entire internal combustion engine, even if I could, so that much I'll have to scrounge, at least. The problem is that most aren't going to be sitting around; they're going to be in cars, and in other generators. Given the mechanical force necessary to drive a rotor, though, I could build an alternator, even calibrate it to what the power grid used to provide, which was... I think fifty Hertz here. Finding a ring to act as the stator might be a challenge, but if all else fails I...

"Hey, Asuka?"

I twitch, gazing over at Shinji, who's just sitting in place with a shirt in one hand. "Yeah?"

He makes an uncomfortable face. "I know we didn't find any useful generators last time we went looking, but there _have _to be some lying around. I mean, they used to sell them at... like, home-improvement type stores, didn't they?"

"Probably," I shrug. I don't know that anything we could get there would be strong enough to work at desalination, but we could probably use it for ourselves, or for something else. "Yeah, I guess we can check that out before I make you start winding coils of copper wire."

He smiles, an uncertain expression. "That's, um... thanks?"

"No problem. Go clean up, jerk."

"Fine." Shaking his head, he grabs his own stuff, then heads over to the makeshift path we've been using to get to the little clearing.

When he gets back a little bit later, I've already started in on breakfast in the form of stale dry cereal. It's funny how you can get used to eating just about anything. He shortly joins me, digging a fistful out for himself to munch on.

Shortly I elbow him. "Let's go."

Nodding, he closes the cereal box back up. "Let me get my hat."

I stand up, then wait a moment for him to get ready. On our way through the trees to the highway, I give his shoulder an absent backhanded smack. "Suppose the truck still has enough gas to get us around?"

"No idea," he admits with a sigh. "I wasn't paying attention to the gauge last time."

"Great." He just shrugs, and we walk the rest of the way without conversation.

As it turns out there is gas in the Humvee, but not very much, probably not enough to get us down the hill, let alone back up it. Thus I spend a few moments watching Shinji trying and failing to get it back into its original place before finally giving up and leaving the thing wedged out an an angle from where it belongs. We have to head some distance down the hill before finding another vehicle that'll actually start, and once again I make him drive it down towards the city.

"Do you know where we're going?" he asks at one point.

"No." Searching again was his idea; why is he asking me? "Just drive."

"Okay."

An hour later, by my guess, he finally rolls into the parking lot of a sprawling, warehouse-like store on the western side of the city. As he pulls the key from the ignition and the engine starts ticking to coolness, he gives me a thoughtful sideways glance. "Got our keys?"

It takes me a moment to realize he's talking about the baseball bat. "Check," I confirm, patting where it's wedged between my seat and the door.

He nods. "Flashlights?"

"In the back."

Together we hop to the ground, not even bothering to take the keys out of the truck. I pause long enough to grab our flashlights, then toss one to Shinji. The bat, I keep; since he got to drive, I get to open the place up. I do so with a loud growl, taking five swings to make sure there aren't any wedges of glass still resident in the door frames; I've learned to be wary of that before.

"Nice," nods Shinji. "You must like smashing stuff."

I give him a smile, then heft the bat to my shoulder. "You could say that. Let's go."

With flashlights at the ready we strike into the store, quickly splitting up to search on account of it being not at all clear which section would hold something like portable generators. Most of the stuff in here seems totally useless now, like sheets of drywall, high-gloss indoor paint and decorative outlet covers. I keep a running mental catalogue, though, of stuff I might be able to pillage for tubes, pumps, heaters, filters or anything else that might help me turn salty LCL into drinkable water.

Maybe fifteen minutes later, I find the generators, wedged into one of the back corners. "Hey, idiot! I found them!"

Shortly the beam of his flashlight angles into view, followed momentarily by Shinji himself. "Ah, cool. What the hell is that, though? You found a chainsaw?"

I grin at the thing in my left hand. "Yeah. I thought it might come in handy since we're surrounded by burnable trees up there."

He smiles awkwardly at this, reaching to scratch the back of his head. "Do we need it? I don't want to be dependent on having to run down here for fuel, and I don't really mind using the axe."

I ponder that briefly. It sounds like he's volunteering to do most of the wood-chopping, which would in turn make him smell like sap, which I like. "Okay." Letting the chainsaw crash to the ground, I forget about it and wander closer to the generators, brightly-colored boxy things full of metal and plastic and outlets.

"What kind do we need?" wonders Shinji, shuffling closer to me. "I didn't realize they came in so many varieties."

"The difference is mostly just the wattage of the output," I explain absently, studying what I can read of the signs in front of me. "Here, this one can produce fifteen thousand watts. That'll boil a liter of water in... less than thirty seconds, I think." I won't get close to that kind of efficiency, but that's not too bad. Better than I was expecting. "And it runs ten hours on a full tank." Okay, that's not very good, but there's not much I can do about that.

"Asuka?" His voice is flat. "It weighs over two hundred kilos."

I shrug. "So? It's got wheels."

"Yeah, but there's broken glass all over the floor near the door. And I doubt we can lift it into the truck."

I frown at this. He's probably right; the thing is about twice as heavy as the two of us combined, I'd bet. "Wait here," I instruct, then turn my back and jog out of the aisle.

Shortly I find a sturdy-looking metal shelf in one of the displays, currently being used to hold up vacuum cleaners. A few swings of the bat clears it off, and then it occurs to me I don't have a socket set to free it from the frame. Sighing, I roam back to the hardware section and find one, then discover Shinji is frowning at my vandalized display when I return.

"Want to be helpful?" I prompt, rooting through the sockets to find one that fits the nuts. "Get another of these and start unscrewing."

He shifts his feet. "I don't... really know how."

"It's not like I'm an expert either," I counter curtly. "Just get one. I'll show you how they work."

"Okay." He trots away, into the darkness.

When he gets back I offer a brief tutorial, but even so it takes us longer than I'd hoped to get the damn shelf down. The two of us then carry it through the store, holding flashlights awkwardly, before letting it clatter loudly the the ground in front of the door. After backtracking all the way back to the generator, we make the same trip again with both of us pushing the thing forward. A little bit of grunting gets it onto the shelf, allowing us to push it onto the pavement outside.

"I hope you only want one of these," mutters Shinji as he catches his breath. Blue eyes regard both generator and the Humvee with mixed doubt and dread.

"For now," I nod. "You should be glad I'm helping you bulk up. Don't you want to impress the ladies?" I give his triceps a few squeezes as I speak.

"Ladies? You mean just you?" He shakes his head wearily. "If I need muscles to get you, I'm screwed."

I laugh at this, then decide he's rested enough and start dragging the shelf towards the truck. As I do so, he opts to be a good sport and open the back of the vehicle up, and in an instant our shelf is now also a ramp.

"You ready?" I ask brightly, shaking my arms out as I wander back over to the generator. "This is probably going to suck."

"Yeah. Let's just get it over with."

Nodding, I wait until he's in place, and then we wrestle the thing down the curb and over towards the base of our ramp. "Hey," I grunt on the way, "that thing's not wide enough for us both. You want to push or pull?"

"I'll push," he volunteers. He'd probably rather be under the generator in case it falls.

I shake my head, too winded to argue. "Fine. Let me get around front." As we reach the base, I hop up onto the ramp and grab the frame of the generator. Fortunately there are handholds all over it, probably for situations like this. Once my feet are solidly planted, I meet Shinji's gaze and nod. "Ready."

He growls and shoulders into the thing, and I grit my teeth trying to pull it up towards me. A moment later it heaves upward, having made the transition from the parking lot to the ramp, and we continue to inch it on up. The shelf bows noticeably under the weight, but I try to ignore it, just as I try to ignore how my sweaty hands want to slip on the smooth steel handles.

"Hurry," he rasps. "I'm not... just..."

"I'm hurrying," I growl.

His breathing grows more ragged and shortly he begins to yell wordlessly, and it takes me a moment to realize I'm doing the same. Somehow we manage to get the generator up, though, and I collapse against the inside wall of the truck with a sigh and a grimace. My arms are shaking, and my fingers are white from the pressure. I'll bet my back and forearms start killing me later tonight.

Shinji's just sort of sprawled on the ramp now, breathing heavily. "You know what?" he wheezes, lifting his face from the floor of the truck. "The shelf won't fit in here."

I blink at him for a moment, then at the ramp. "Fuck. We'll just tie it on top or something."

"Sure. Let's keep moving, though, otherwise I'm going to fall asleep."

"Yeah." I hop down, and together we shuffle back into the store. "There's some random other stuff I want to get, if you want to find some more rope or something."

He exhales heavily, working his shoulder. "Sounds good."

I nod, and we part ways again. I was excited about this before; now I just want to get it done.

In maybe half an hour I find my way back outside with a shopping cart full of junk. Shinji, I notice with pleasure, has already tied the shelf to the top of the SAM system, and is now just lounging in the back of the truck. He nods once on my arrival.

"Let me get this inside," I suggest, "and then we can get out of here." Wheeling the cart over near him, I start throwing packages inside.

"It got cloudy on us," he observes, watching me.

"So it did." One by one boxes and bags start flying into the truck, most landing near him.

"I like sleeping under the stars," he continues, "but I'm tired of getting rained on at night, so I want to get a tarp or something to hang over me when I sleep. But I'm too nervous it'll fall on me and smother me or something."

I snort. "So let's just get a tent, genius."

I toss a few more boxes in before realizing he still hasn't said anything. An upward glance shows him just sitting there, staring back at me with a peculiar expression, a surprised one.

As soon as I see him, though, he nods, clearing his face back to normal. "Sure. That would... make more sense, probably."

I lift my eyebrows at the last box, a microwave oven, and wedge it in next to the other stuff, but I don't respond. What's so weird about a tent? Yeah, we'd be sleeping under the same roof, but does that surprise him so much? Maybe he just didn't want to be the one to suggest it first. Probably thought I'd call him a perv or something. And I would have. But I would've agreed.

"Did you see any inside?" he wonders as I'm giving the shopping cart a farewell shove. "I didn't."

"Nope. Get in the front; we'll find one."

As soon as we're both buckled in, he shifts into gear and pulls out. "I actually know an outdoors store," he admits, giving me a quick smile before returning his gaze to the road. "I was there before."

"Good." Shifting in my seat, I lean back and try to doze.

I don't get a chance to, though; it seems Shinji's store was only a few blocks away. Stifling a groan, I slip out of the truck again and together we head inside.

It doesn't take us long to find a good tent. After brief discussion we opt for just a two-person one, rather than anything larger; there isn't _that _much space at the site, and we need some left over for fires and so on.

On the way back up the hill I finally get a catnap in. Shinji doesn't try to wake me.

The feel of tires on rough gravel wakes me with a start, and I gaze out the window at the trees near our spot. Then, nodding, I stretch in the seat. "Tell you what," I offer. "If we can get the tent up, I won't bother with the generator again today. You can get back to your manga or whatever."

He exhales happily at this. "Okay. That's great."

Once he stops we hop out and waste little time unpacking the tent. There are instructions printed in nine languages, of which I speak three and Shinji speaks maybe one and a quarter, but the thing seems easy enough to set up without any directions at all. In less than twenty minutes we're moving our sleeping supplies inside. Shinji's blankets sprawl somewhat, pushing my sleeping bag off to one side, and it smells vaguely of nylon inside still, but I don't care. I can watch him sleep from much nearer in here.

With that done, I find the manga I was reading, and Shinji does the same, so we read sprawled out next to the log-bench by the empty firepit. It's early afternoon, only, so that gives me a few hours to giggle over my manga before we eat. I'd like to play some more cards, but that can wait until tonight. It'll be better around the fire anyway.

When Shinji finally starts cooking I just continue to read, but it doesn't take long, so shortly we're feasting on noodles with cilantro and curry. I actually used to like curry before living with Misato, but now it just makes me think of her when I eat it. I guess it's not too bad, and for meals these days there's precious little to choose from; I should be glad I have Shinji to cook for me, because otherwise I'd probably be eating junk food half the time.

Afterwards, I work on cleaning up while Shinji puts together a fire. "Wanna play cards again?" I offer, glancing over at him as I scrub the pot. "Or something?"

"Sure." Though his back is to me, I can hear the pleasure in his voice. "That was fun, last night."

I feel myself grinning. "Yeah. After this I'll pull my sleeping bag out for us."

"Okay."

Silence falls between us, and soon I can smell wood smoke from the fire he's nurturing. In moments I set the pot aside to dry, then hurry into the tent and emerge with my sleeping bag in tow. Shinji, I note with a slight smile, has already gotten the cards out.

Moving quickly, I kick my shoes off and drop to the bag while he does the same. I grab the cards first, then shuffle them briefly and start dealing.

When it becomes apparent what I'm dealing, Shinji chuckles. "With all the stuff we could be playing, it's war again?"

I lift an eyebrow at this. "All the stuff we could be playing? Just because we're sleeping in the same tent doesn't mean I'm a perv now."

He regards me for a long moment with narrowed eyes, and belatedly I start to wonder if maybe I'm overplaying my hand on the flirting. Eventually, though, he just shrugs mildly. "I guess we'll see."

Even though this is a pretty lame response on his part, I elect to leave it alone and instead just finish dealing out the deck. "Since I'm feeling nice," I decide afterwards, "I won't even count cards this time." It'll be hard to stop, but if I try not to think about it, maybe I can.

He shrugs again, neatening his pile. "You may as well. It makes the game go faster."

That's not necessarily true, but I smile anyway. "Well, then, we'll play something else after this. If you're good you might even get your chance to play strip poker." God damn it. I'm doing it again.

"You keep bringing that up," murmurs Shinji as we flip over the first pair of cards. "If it would really make you feel better, you could just play war naked."

I giggle, a little surprised he would say that. Though I suppose he might just be getting tired of all the teasing. "I _was _just going to suggest blackjack or something," I admit, "but there's not much to bet with, and it's boring without the betting."

"That's fine," he concedes. "I'm pretty bad at it anyway."

I open my mouth to note that this is all the more reason for me to suggest playing it, but a sharp crack sounds from the fire before I can speak. Jerking my head around, I watch the logs shift slightly, while sparks swirl angrily skyward.

Something draws my eyes to the side, where the tent sits. It seems... a little close to the fire, maybe. "Do you think--?"

"Hey, is the--?" he asks at the same time.

When he just trails off, I roll my eyes. "Yeah, it might be too close."

"We'll keep an eye on it tonight, then," he decides, "and move it tomorrow. Another meter away should probably be good."

I would almost prefer moving it tonight, but for some reason I don't really want to disagree with him over something so trivial. "Fine. Just keep watching it; you're facing it more than I am."

"I can do that," he assures, pausing to collect a trick. The ten goes on top, I see, and the four below.

A few more rounds of the game elapse in silence. "You know," I muse, "now that we have a generator, we could get a tv and some video games or something."

Shinji smiles uncomfortably, blue eyes thoughtful in the firelight. "I'm not sure we should."

"What? Why not?"

He shrugs, fidgeting with his cards. "I don't think we should get used to having that kind of stuff," he explains. "We might never have it again, except with a generator."

"Oh, come on," I mutter. "I know there's no one else around yet, but eventually _some _people will show up, right? I'd be surprised if humanity was collectively so weak that everyone but maybe a couple dozen people stayed up in orbit."

"We need more than that, though," he counters, his tone insistent. "What if just half of all people come back? That's... what, _maybe _two billion people, in the whole world? Is that enough to keep industry and everything running?"

I pause, frowning at him, surprised at the depth of the question, surprised he's given it that much thought. "I'm... not sure," I admit.

He smiles. "I'm not either. I just thought we should keep it in mind, and not take things for granted."

I nod slowly, collecting a trick and putting it in my victory pile. That's surprisingly... wise. Maybe I should pay more attention to his objections to stuff. "What...?" I swallow. "What _do _you think the future will be like?"

"Me?" He seems surprised I would ask him. "I have no idea. I guess I'd be happy if everything went more or less back to normal. If Misato comes back, I wouldn't mind living with her again. If she'd let me."

I'm sure she would. "True," I acknowledge. "I might too, if she'd let _me_. You kept things interesting around there."

He chuckles. "No, I think that was mostly you."

I smile at the cards. "Well, maybe."

He laughs again, quietly, and for a time the game continues in silence. He's actually beating me pretty badly this time; I haven't been paying enough attention to stack the deck in my favor, and the luck of the deal wasn't with me.

When I have just six cards left, I toss my head. "Let's just call this one, Shinji. You're probably going to win."

He grins at me, almost smugly. "You just don't want to lose, do you? Rather jump ship and start playing a game you can win?"

"Of course." Who wouldn't?

"Oh, fine," he mutters, pushing all of our cards into one big pile, which he begins to neaten for shuffling. "What, then? Go fish?"

I scoff at that. "Shinji... we're not, like... eight years old, are we?"

He lifts a cool eyebrow at me. "You'll happily play war, but you're too good for go fish?"

"Yeah, you know what? Bite me."

"I don't know many other games, though," he sighs. "How about hearts?"

I smile. "You can't play hearts with two people."

"Oh, yeah."

"You know, if we'd gotten a chessboard, this wouldn't be a problem." I shake my head. "Do you know how to play cribbage?"

He brightens at this, then hesitates. "Yeah, but... Asuka, we don't have a board."

I grin, tapping my head. "I'll keep track of the score."

The sudden doubt painting his face makes me want to punch him. "It's, uh... not that I don't trust you, but..."

"Shinji, I'm confident I can beat you without resorting to lying about the score." What a dork. "And if not, you can just keep track for yourself on that little notebook you have."

He waves dismissively, then settles in and starts dealing, six cards to each of us. "I used to beat Toji and Kensuke at this, you know," he warns. "I'm actually good at it."

"Yeah?" When he's done dealing I retrieve my hand and quickly sort it. It's decent, no better. "Comparing yourself to those two? Is that really a reliable metric?"

"I guess we'll find out, won't we?"

Snorting, I choose a couple of cards and toss them face-down into his crib. When he does the same, I split the deck and wait for him to flip the up-card, then grin; it almost doubles the value of my hand. "You're about to get crushed, I'm afraid," I sigh, tossing out a card to start the pegging. "Four."

He quirks a grin. "Eight, for two."

What a dick. "Um, seventeen."

Play proceeds in the usual fashion and, to my surprise, I find that he's very good at pegging despite my advantage in the actual counting. As such he ends up beating me one-twenty-one to one-seventeen.

After the game he leans back triumphantly, folding hands behind his head. "College graduate, are you?" he wonders lightly. "Genius? Prodigy and all that?"

"Oh, fuck off." I fire a glare at him while I collect the cards back into the deck.

"Sorry." His smile grows less smug and more apologetic. "Another game?"

I consider that, then sigh. "Shinji, the whole top half of my body is sore. I kind of just want to go to bed."

"That's... that's fine." His eyes dart to the tent, as though he just remembered we'll be sharing it.

I nod. "I can douse the fire if you want to brush your teeth and everything."

"Sure."

As he finds his bathroom things, I grab a few bottles of water and start upending them over the crackling fire. It hisses angrily, sending sooty steam roiling up past me before it dissipates, but I keep pouring. When the first bottle is gone, I kick the logs around somewhat before starting on the second.

Shortly the fire is nothing but a few spots of glowing orange amid a wet knot of black and grey wood. Nodding to myself, I toss the bottles into our waste bin, then cross to the flaps of the tent and pause there. Shinji's already inside; his shoes are sitting outside and I can hear him rustling around in there, getting comfortable.

Swallowing, I hesitate only a moment longer, then part the flaps and duck my head inside. It's a little cramped, not to mention dark, but holding the flaps open allows a tiny bit of ambient light to filter into the tent, enough to let me see by.

It lets Shinji see me, too. He pauses in his squirming, frowning at me. Then he opens his mouth, probably to ask where my sleeping bag is, but when I just stare mutely back at him, he instead nods and scoots aside, making room for me in the blankets.

That's all it would have taken? Hell.

Kicking off my shoes, I slip inside, then zip the flaps mostly shut. Near-total darkness descends, forcing me to find my way around through blind fumbling, and I mutter an apology when my open hand comes in contact with Shinji's face. That means I'm close, though, so a moment later I drop to the ground, rolling to my side and claiming a portion of the blanket.

I'm sleeping with him. And he's letting me.

Cloth rustles behind me but he doesn't touch me, doesn't start to cuddle. Is he afraid to? Like he thinks I'd do this but would freak out if he touched me? Chewing a lip, I scoot backwards until my ass and back are resting against his side; that should at least let him know that contact is okay. I can tell his arm is rigid, though, like he's terrified of touching anything he shouldn't. Eventually, though, he relaxes, and his breath grows more even.

It still smells like nylon in here. And like smoke and Shinji.

Long moments pass in the muted silence inside the tent, and it occurs to me that he's probably asleep. I suppose I could actually cuddle up to him now, rather than waiting for the reverse to happen, but... I don't really want to impose. Things are different now, and I've already asked to sleep in his blankets; maybe he just wants some personal space now. I don't know. From now on I can only take what he wants to give.

Even so, this is comfortable. It makes me feel good, even happy, and I want this every night if I can have it.

Wow. I do, don't I?

I'm... falling in love with him. Or maybe I'm already there.

By now my eyes have grown accustomed to the darkness, and I stare along the blanketed tent floor. Love. After a realization like that, I would have expected my heart to be pounding, but I still feel calm. Relaxed. Like this is nothing new, or if it is, it's something I don't need to fight.

Shinji. It's Shinji. The idiot. I... don't feel disgusted, though. There's way more to him than his simple demeanor would suggest, and I think he might actually understand me now. And after all the shit we've put each other through, the fact that he's still willing to hang out with me, and actually enjoy it, that he'll let me sleep with him with no questions asked... he must love me too. Whether he knows it or not. The sleeping thing I find especially telling; this is a big risk for someone as withdrawn as Shinji. Or me. You just don't go to lengths like this for someone you don't care about.

I... suppose this is why I've been teasing him so much, then. I wanted him to take me up on it. I'd better keep trying, then.

Behind me he exhales slowly, then rolls over. Warmth presses against my back, the smell of wood smoke, and then his arm finds its way around my waist.

I close my eyes. Heat flushes inside, making my fingers tingle and my chest flutter. Even though my arm is starting to hurt where I'm lying on it, I don't want to move, ever. I'd stay like this forever if I could.

"Asuka?" His voice is a warm whisper next to my ear. "Are you awake?"

I nod slightly against his pillow. Maybe he wasn't asleep, then.

"Why... why do we do this?" His arm tightens briefly, clarifying what he means.

I chew a lip at this, uncertain how much to tell him or what I would even like to say. After a moment I swallow. "Because I like it."

"Why?"

I'm a little surprised he would endanger this by asking about it so bluntly, but I suppose if I were him I'd want to know too. Want to see if it meant what I thought it meant, or if I was just setting myself up to get hurt again later. Plus, I guess he did this last time, too, kicked me out of his blankets even though it clearly hurt him to do so. Truth must be a higher value for him than mindless comfort, now... which just tells me I am right to love him.

Still, I'm not entirely sure how to answer him. Gripping his arm, I lift it gently aside to give me room to roll over and face him. He stares back at me, so close in the darkness. Close enough to kiss, but he's not smiling; what little I can see of his expression is as thoughtful as it is worried. What to say? How much to reveal right now?

Eventually he just smiles, a tired but genuine expression. "Actually, you know what?" One hand finds my upper arm, squeezes it gently. "Don't worry about it."

I guess I don't have to say anything at all. He gets it.

Nodding, I roll back over, pulling his own arm back into place, back where it belongs. He settles into place, sighing, and I find I'm doing the same.

So. I can't mention it yet, but he understands anyway, and is gracious enough to give me a dignified way out even though we both _know_.

He's the strong one now. Stronger than me. I wonder how long it's been that way.

I could just as easily let it go, let him be strong and take care of me, but I have to show him that even though he _can_, he doesn't _have to_. I have to say something, something of substance. Squeezing my eyes shut again, I shake my head slightly. "Shinji, why do you put up with me?"

"I... really like having you around," he admits. "I was going crazy without you, you know."

I know how that is. "Yeah, but... why me? Why Asuka?"

Silence. His breathing is slow and even, and so is mine.

Eventually I can hear him lick his lips. "We're... the same," he explains; his voice is so soft I can barely hear it. "We just went in opposite directions."

After a moment I nod. I'll believe that.

Before I realize what I'm doing, I'm sliding a hand along his arm; my fingers find his own and thread through them, then press his hand against my stomach. "You still need me, then?" I recall softly.

"I do." He swallows. "I... don't want you to go away again."

I exhale slowly. "Then I'll stay right here."


	15. Finale: Più Vivo

Finale: Più Vivo

I awake feeling... warm. Comfortable. Asuka is still here.

It's clear we've moved around somewhat during the night, but she's still on her side with her back to me, or is again, and I'm still holding her tightly around the waist. Spooning, I guess. She must like that as much as I do.

Rain has moved in, it seems, and is now whispering against the roof of the tent. Colorless morning light filters in through the plain utilitarian green of the walls, leaving a sleepy glow in the interior with us. Asuka didn't zip the flaps totally shut last night, but even so the thing is well-made enough that it hasn't let any rain in; the mixed scent of blood and wet earth has drifted in instead.

My face is in her hair. It's ticklish, but not so much that I need to move.

It's kind of a strange sensation, holding her so tightly. I always figured a girl would be sort of... soft and fleshy, but here her back and stomach are almost as hard as mine are. She's toned under the curves. I wonder if she always was, or if this is a result of living as we have for the past month or so. Either way, it feels nice.

Sighing, I let my eyes slide half-shut and just drift. She's still holding my hand.

I wonder if we're together now. A couple. I have to think so, after the conversation last night, after sleeping like this, but with her it's best never to sit and guess. I'll have to make sure at some point... but not right now. This is too nice to disturb, even with meaningful questions.

Time slips past. The morning steals onward in a gentle murmur of rain.

I know she's awake -- she scratched an itch on her shoulder a little bit ago -- but she hasn't really moved and hasn't spoken. And neither have I. Her shirt has ridden up a little bit overnight, so my pinky is actually resting against skin rather than cotton like the others. I want to caress her stomach, but... at the same time I don't. Simple contact is enough. For now.

Eventually, though, I sigh. "Asuka?"

"Mmm?"

"Are you awake?"

"Mmm."

I bite my lips, not really willing to speak what's next but at the same time unable to avoid it. "We... should get up."

"Mmm!"

"Look, I have to pee," I explain helplessly. "And I'm getting hungry. And besides, there's always tonight." And all the nights from now on.

"Mmm..." She lets go of my hand with obvious reluctance.

I sit up, letting my fingers slide along the exposed line of her stomach before realizing what I'm doing, but she doesn't seem to care. Or notice. "Are you going to get up or stay here?"

"I'll get up." Her voice cracks, hoarse from sleep, and the sound brings a smile to my face. Slowly she pushes herself up, then twists half-around to regard me, brushing hair from her face.

"Okay." Quickly grabbing my cap and fitting it to my head, I unzip the tent flaps, find the cleaning stuff and hurry off through the trees. The rain isn't very heavy, fortunately, but it still smells like blood. I'll have to shower afterwards, if it lets up today. I think half the reason I would want people to start coming back here is so that their LCL leaves the environment and goes back into their bodies, where it all belongs. There are nights when I dream of clean rain.

When I get back, Asuka is standing outside the tent, hands on hips, scowling up at the sky. "Why don't we have any raincoats?"

"I... don't know?" Shrugging, I put the cleaning stuff away, then crack open the bin of breakfast foods. "Because it doesn't rain very often, and I never thought of it, I guess."

"Well, think more." Rain is slicking her crimson hair down, making her looked a little drowned, which is bad, but it makes her shirt cling to her, which is good.

I give her a sour look. "Is there a reason you couldn't have thought of it too?"

She blinks at this, then rolls her eyes. "I don't have to put up with this," she mutters, swiping the cleaning materials from where I left them. "Smartass." Blue eyes regard me narrowly as she strides into the trees.

Smiling, I find an energy bar, then close the tub again. It's a little nauseating to eat something that LCL is raining on, but it's not too bad, and I'm kind of used to it.

Shortly Asuka returns, still wearing the same clothes, which makes sense; it's raining, so they're already ruined. May as well wait until it stops, and change then. I'm doing the same thing.

I'm just finishing my breakfast up when she draws near to get something for herself. I nod, moving aside to give her room. "Did you have anything in mind for today?"

She grimaces. "I wanted to mess with the generator, but... not so much in the rain."

I nod again. I would also bet she's procrastinating since she knows it'll be a pain getting it down from the truck.

Vague muttering issues from my side while she roots around in our food, looking for something that isn't cereal. Soon she finds it in the form of another bar. I know she doesn't really care for them, and in truth I don't either, but they're easy.

While she eats, I wander over to the log-bench and sit on it, stretching legs idly in front of me. She follows, sitting beside me, actually close enough for our hips to touch. Rain continues to patter into mud and vegetation all around, dripping off the brim of my hat, hazing the view of broken Tokyo-3 below.

"What are you thinking about?" she asks around a mouthful of energy bar.

I blink, a little surprised she would ask, but I guess the rules are changing. "I haven't played the cello in a while. I was thinking it might be nice to get one."

"In the rain?" she snorts. "And where would you put it?"

I shrug. "I don't know. That's why I was only thinking about it, not suggesting it."

She falls silent, eating. Rain pushes odd little strands of hair around on her face.

"What about you?" Turnabout should be fair play.

Making a face, she stuffs the last of the bar into her mouth, then starts chewing. Long moments pass before she speaks again. "I... think you were right about the GeoFront crater," she admits quietly, not looking at me. "We should visit."

I chew a lip, eyeing her sideways. What brought this on? "Do you want to do that today?"

She nods absently. "We should get some more gas while we're in the city, if we go."

For the generator, she means, not just the Humvee. "Okay. Do you want to go now?"

Her eyes slide thoughtfully towards me. "Yeah. Let's get the usual stuff first."

Flashlights and the bat, of course. I nod, rising to go grab it all, and she just stands in the rain and watches me. There's little conversation on the way to the truck, and once we're crossing the pavement I hand the stuff to her; she accepts it without expression.

I ponder that as I climb into the truck. She's pretty quiet today, and so far no flirting. Something's bothering her, then. The crater? Or is she having second thoughts about us already? I have a hard time believing so after how she wanted to stay in bed, but... I guess I'll find out before long.

A quick three-point turn gets the truck pointed in the right direction and I set off rumbling down the hill. I'm not really worried about directions, as this highway should head right to the crater, so instead I worry about the rain. Despite getting the headlights and windshield wipers working, I find I'm gripping the wheel white-knuckled and leaning forward in my seat as though it'll help me see the road better. Asuka watches me with obvious scorn, but I ignore her.

"Crater first?" she suggests quietly as we're crossing into the city. "Then gas afterwards?"

"Sure."

The purr of the engine and the rhythmic whimper of the wipers provide a monotonic backdrop to our travel. Asuka rides leaning against the passenger's side window, staring blankly at the passing city blocks.

Eventually I clear my throat and half-glance at her. "Are you okay?"

She twitches but doesn't look away from the road. "Shinji... I'm fine."

I nod. We're almost there anyway.

Soon I slow the Humvee, then stop it a good hundred meters from where the road simply disappears in a gargantuan pile of dirt. After turning the truck off, I twist to regard Asuka momentarily, but she's just staring back at me with... I would say trepidation shading her features. Rain drums patiently against the roof and windshield.

Eventually her lips twist helplessly and, with a shrug, she opens the door and slips to the ground. I do likewise on my side, remembering to turn the vehicle lights off only when it pings at me.

In silence the two of us walk along the empty four-lane highway, crossing giant blocky directives in yellow paint, passing under electronic signs now hanging black and lifeless in the rain. Ahead of us, the massive mound of torn-up earth grows steadily larger; it stretches as far as I can see in both directions, shrinking into the distance until buildings and rain obscure it.

When we reach the edge, Asuka starts climbing without hesitation, and I scamper for a moment to catch up. Bloody rain puddles in little depressions in the dirt, spilling and trickling down the slope; with every step the mud squelches, threatening to steal a shoe. We climb carefully, and I pause every now and then to make sure Asuka isn't disregarding her safety, but true to her word she seems fine. Shortly we rise above the level of nearby buildings the tumbling dirt has half-entombed, but we keep climbing. I find it's easier if I don't look back, or down.

Before long Asuka plants a foot atop the mud in front of her, then pauses. When I reach her side, I can see why.

The crater is... enormous. At least a kilometer across, maybe several; I have difficulty judging the distance with nothing in the middle to give it perspective. The other side is so far away I can barely make it out through the rain, and in between is a perfect sunken hemisphere of open space. The edges, despite their age, still have a clear scraped look to them, as though the Black Moon hacked them up while it was rising, and while all the dirt that happened to be above it got pushed to the sides to create the massive ring we're standing on now. Below, every hundred meters or so I can see odd bits of twisted pipe or hanging cable sticking out from the ground, all quite literally torn apart upon the Black Moon's ascent. Greyish light glitters in the middle of the crater, and it takes me a moment to realize there's a pond there, or lake, where water has happened to gather since Third Impact. We're maybe... two hundred meters above the ground we parked on, but it seems like nothing at all compared to the depth of the wound in the earth in front of me.

"It's so huge," murmurs Asuka beside me, staring blankly into the hole. "It sort of... puts things in perspective, knowing we were messing around with power on this sort of scale."

"Not you and me," I point out just as quietly. "Rei did. And my father."

Rain patters wetly into the mud all around. "I meant we, NERV," she explains.

I nod. There's not much I can really add that won't just sound petty in the face of the sheer _size_ on display here.

"I hated it, you know," she continues, speaking in a quiet monotone. "Instrumentality, I mean. I hated it, how little control I had, how everybody could see into my soul. It didn't even matter that I could see into theirs too; I didn't _want_ to. I just wanted to get away. So then you showed up, and you were asking me for help, and you were just part of the thing I was trying to get away from, and I hated you at that point anyway, so I didn't hold back. I told you exactly what I thought. And then you killed me."

I roll lips between my teeth as she pauses, unwilling to add anything or even to move until she's clearly done. Rain drips steadily from my hat, past my eyes.

"I let you do it, too. I was just so... so tired of being hurt all the time, of hurting you, and I just wanted to go away so that the pain would go with me. But you can't die there. Pain doesn't just disappear. I have some vague memories of Misato and Kaji, and then the next thing I knew, you were gone somewhere, and it was just red, nothing but red, everywhere, and everyone could still see into me. So I found something warm, even though it felt... spiky... too, and I went to it, and it turned out to be you."

She pauses to swallow. "I... I didn't get here so quickly because I learned what I needed to from Instrumentality and then graduated from it or something. I got here because I _ran away_ from it. I learned more right beforehand, when I found out Mama was in Unit-02, than I did during Instrumentality itself. I cheated, Shinji."

I eye her sideways, but she's still just staring straight ahead, probably not seeing anything at all. "I don't think you _can_ cheat," I offer after a moment. "Not everyone is going to like it up there, and people are going to have different reasons for leaving. I don't think you need to worry about it."

She sighs. "Shinji, don't you see? I just--"

"Asuka." I cut her off, keeping my voice gentle. "It's okay."

Clothing shifts beside me, and I turn to find her watching me out of the corners of her eyes, doubtful, almost wary. She doesn't want to believe me, but doesn't think she knows enough to disagree.

I don't say anything, just nod encouragingly, and she relaxes somewhat. She must be getting it, understanding one of the little things that's caused her as much pain as anything else, that she's always judged herself far more harshly than anyone else ever would. Especially anyone who loved her.

Eventually she closes her eyes, nodding once, slumping slightly; tension fades from her as though washed away by the rain. "Yeah," she whispers. "Maybe... maybe you're right."

This might be as good a time as any to make sure I understand the new rules, I realize. Licking my lips, I shuffle over to grip her shoulder. When she doesn't react, I press on. "I was hoping you'd come back, you know. Despite what happened right away I... really did wanted to talk to you again; I wanted to explain what I could and maybe... I don't really know. I didn't have it all figured out when you appeared. But I'm glad you came. The first one back, too. You're always so worried about being weak, but looking at that, I'd say you're the strongest personality in the world."

She exhales sharply through her nose, the faintest of chuckles, and sways slightly. "You would say that."

"I wouldn't have, always," I recall.

"No," she agrees after a moment. "I suppose not."

Nodding, I slide my hand to her other shoulder and tug her gently in my direction... and she thumps into my side. A long sigh escapes her lips, and with it some weight I wasn't aware she carried until now.

This is it, then. The old walls are just... gone. She's mine, and I'm hers.

For a time neither of us speaks or moves; I keep my arm around her shoulders, still in a little disbelief that I can do this to her at all. Warm liquid trickles down my face, down my back, and continues to push her hair around, but it's barely a nuisance and we ignore it. Somewhere above, thunder rumbles, echoing fitfully across the empty face of the world.

Eventually I turn my head slightly towards Asuka, almost touching her with my hat. "I'm not sure how safe it is up here." This pile of dirt might not be stable, and if either of us fell in there, I don't know that it would be possible to get out.

"Probably not very," she murmurs, shifting against my side. "You want to go?"

"Do you?"

"Sure."

Nodding, I drop my arm from her shoulders but she remains leaning against me, so I wait. "We're not too far from that beach," I point out. "We could see if anyone else has shown up yet."

She stretches lazily, fists to the sky, body quivering as she exhales slowly. "You know what?" she mutters. "Fuck 'em. They'll get here when they get here."

I actually laugh at this, then turn around and survey the slope we just climbed not half an hour ago. It seems somehow... much steeper now, from above. "It would almost be easier just to slide down," I sigh.

"Yeah. You'd love that, until you hit the road." Shaking her head at my idiocy, she starts navigating her way carefully down the hill of dirt and clay.

I follow a few steps behind her, moving awkwardly, often keeping a hand on the ground behind me to help with my balance. I'm not as coordinated as she is.

The descent takes probably twice as long as the ascent did. Asuka finishes well before me, but waits patiently at the base of the hill until I hop down to the mud-slick pavement.

"Took you long enough, loser," she mutters, steering me by an arm back towards the truck. Blue eyes scan mildly up and down my body as we walk. "Let's go steal some gas."

"Sounds good to me." I twitch a little bit when something brushes my ass, but she's just sliding her hand into my back pocket. Trying not to shake my head, I throw an arm around her shoulders again.

Once we're back to the Humvee, I climb into the driver's seat and turn it back on, and shortly I'm driving once more through the rain. This was a fairly busy part of town, with a few sizeable apartment complexes, so I direct us towards the parking ramp of one such. Most people living around here probably would have commuted by train, but there should still be enough cars to net us a few cans of gas. I hope.

A few minutes later I stop in a half-underground parking space lit only by rogue cloud-light spilling in through a chain-link fence on one wall. The slamming of the truck doors reverberates hollowly in the broad space as the two of us make our way to the nearest of the cars, a worn compact with discolored stickers plastered across the back bumper. Once there I glance to Asuka, who has the bat.

She smiles faintly. "I'll smash windows if you want to check the cars afterwards."

"Sure." I wait for her to shatter the driver's window of the compact, then lean in and pull the trunk release. In the trunk I find little of interest, just a tennis racket and a set of tools that looks like it's never been used. No gas.

A steady rhythm of increasingly-distant explosions of shattered glass keeps the silence at bay as I move from car to truck to car, checking back seats and trunks. Some five minutes later I stop to examine our total prize, three mismatched cans of gasoline, one of which is mostly empty.

Asuka stands beside me, arms folded across her chest, bat hanging down her side from one clenched fist. "This is great," she concludes flatly. "I'd be surprised if this replaces what we burned just getting down here."

I shrug. "We can get more. And we could get a different car, instead of driving the Humvee all over the place."

"Yeah, well, let's worry about the gas for now." Hefting one of the cans, she starts trotting back to the truck. "There have to be more parking places around here. Let's keep moving."

Another hour of aimless driving in the area manages to get us enough gas to fuel the Humvee part of the way back up, as well as some extra for the generator which is still in the back with all her other junk. As I pull out of the last parking lot, I eye the sky through the windshield. "I think it's done raining."

"I think so too." She frowns for a moment, rubbing her chin. "Actually, head right at this intersection up here. There's some stuff I want to get."

More stuff. Just what we need. "Fine. What is it?"

"You'll see."

I shrug, suppressing a sigh, and wheel the truck around the corner she indicated. Above, grey clouds have started to fracture around the edges, though it's still mostly overcast.

Following Asuka's directions, I navigate through cracked and empty streets to a big electronics retailer in yet another little mall. Lifting an eyebrow, I stop in front of the doors. "What's in here?"

"Lots of stuff," she answers flippantly, climbing to the ground. "I told you you'd see. Come on."

Muttering, I obey, flipping my flashlight on as I follow her into the dark warehouse-sized space. She trots along the main aisles as though she knows exactly where she's going, and shortly she angles into the audio section.

When I see what she's inspecting, I scratch doubtfully at my head. "You want a stereo?"

"Yeah." Chewing a lip, she examines one box, then visibly dismisses it and moves onto the next. "It's so quiet up there all the time. I want something just... loud and stupid, for once."

I can't help but smile. "Isn't that us? You're loud and I'm stupid?"

She pauses, regarding me narrowly as though she can't figure out whether she should be offended or not. Eventually she just shrugs. "Yeah, but I mean in a different way. Don't worry; you'll like it."

"I'd better," I mutter. "Otherwise you owe me."

Her lips quirk, but she doesn't glance away from the shelf. "I'm sure you'd find some way to make that worthwhile too."

I chuckle. "Maybe."

Shortly she settles on one whole boxed stereo, the biggest one in stock by the looks. "Okay, this should work." Blue eyes dart up to meet mine in the dimness. "You can carry this while I pick out some music."

Grimacing, I shuffle forward to swap the flashlight for the stereo box. Not only is the thing heavy, but also unwieldy due to its size. "I'm surprised you're getting a packaged thing," I admit, "rather than just pick out the biggest components separately." Crap. I probably shouldn't have given her that idea.

She shrugs, leaving me alone to head towards the music selection. "I thought about it, but it would be annoying to set it all up like that at the campsite. This should suffice. Come on."

Shaking my head, I follow her to the music, where she starts grabbing stuff seemingly at random, but it's all pop-chart stuff. "Asuka... this is all girly pop."

"Yeah? You want to suggest something manlier? Be my guest." She snorts, tucking a few more jewel cases under her arm. "I don't think blasting some Bach adagio out over the world is going to be quite the same, Shinji."

"That's not at all what I would have picked," I protest. An adagio? Really. I like his cello suites better anyway.

She snorts. "Right. This is going to be a party, so there will be no classical, unless it has cannon shots or something."

"Fine." I adjust my grip on the stereo box. "Get something by that... uh, the guy. With the dragon tattoo."

Sapphire eyes slide to regard me blankly. "Shinji, I have no idea who you're talking about."

"Oh, whatever. Just get your stuff."

When we finally get back out to the truck, the stereo and music collectively can barely fit inside. I give Asuka a silent but meaningful look on seeing this, but she just sticks her tongue out at me.

Once again the way back up Irie Road is largely quiet. I speak only once, as curiosity strikes me. "Why a party?"

"We're alive," comes her bored response.

"We've been alive for weeks."

"Yeah, but now I'm happy about it."

I nod and choose not to answer. Our drive up the hill continues in silence.

When we get to the camp -- or get _home_ -- Asuka seems to decide that all the stuff in the truck needs to come out. Including the generator. Thus, while she busies herself pulling random devices out and tossing them aside, I climb on top of the Humvee and start untying the shelf from the SAM unit. Idly I wonder how much gas we would have saved if I'd taken it off before we left in the morning.

All too soon it's time to move the metal beast in the back. With just me holding the handles behind it, and Asuka watching me, I ease the thing down the ramp. Or, more accurately, I let it roll down and skid clumsily after it, then almost pitch forward when it gets stuck in the mud at the bottom. At least it was easier than getting it up.

However, moving it across the damp ground proves to be another matter. It's heavy enough that the wheels simply sink in, and we have to drag it through the mud anyway, pausing to jump the occasional tree root.

On reaching the edge of our clearing, I stop and simply lean against the generator. "We're doing all this," I mutter, "so you can have a party?"

She nods, leaning her elbows on the handles. "You need to lighten up too, Shinji. Don't complain."

I shrug. Maybe she's right. "Is here good enough, or do we need to move it more?"

"This should be fine," she decides, pushing herself upright to frown at the thing. "I'm going to start putting stuff together."

"I'm going to wash up," I counter. With the clouds breaking up, I don't think it's going to rain again anytime soon.

Asuka doesn't even answer; it looks like she's already in her own world, putting some improbable device together in her head. Smiling, I leave her there, then grab the cleaning stuff and a change of clothes on my way to what I've started thinking of as the bathroom. Once there I strip down and wash off, spending some time and water on my hair to get rid of the caked LCL in it. If it's this much of a pain for me, I can only imagine how Asuka does it. Maybe she has secret girl hair skills I don't know about.

When I get back, she's already set up the stereo on top of a few cases of water, and has moved on to cutting something apart, something that, judging by the box, is for fish tanks. I don't really know. When I ask what she's doing, and if I can help, she just mutters something indistinct in response.

Shrugging, I back off a short distance and sit on the log to watch her. I don't think she really knows what she's doing, and she has only slightly more mechanical skill than I do, apparently, but in a couple of hours she's managed to cannibalize a couple of different machines to put together a pump connected to a few tubes. After dumping some gas into the generator and flicking it on -- surprisingly it's only about as loud as a vacuum cleaner -- she hooks her device up and successfully starts pumping water out of one plastic bottle and into another.

With a grin she sits back, then after a moment turns off the generator. "Hey, Shinji," she calls, turning around, but then she pauses, eyes darting over to where I'm sitting. "When did you change? And clean?"

"About five minutes after we got here," I answer. "You didn't notice."

"Oh." With a toss of her head, she gestures at the thing she's built. "This is probably too small for us to get any real use out of, but I wanted to make sure the parts would work together. All I need is a thing to boil water and a tank to collect the condensed steam, and we've got a desalination plant on our hands. Oh, and we'd need something to clean out the gunk left over after boiling."

"That's cool," I smile. Moving the entire apparatus to a source of water, on the other hand, is not going to be cool, but the benefits are good enough to make it worthwhile. "I didn't really know you liked to work with your hands."

"I don't," she mutters, standing and stretching her legs out. "It's so much slower and messier than what's in my head. I don't have any real skill in it, just persistence."

"Still," I note, "that's pretty useful. The world needs stuff like that now."

She smiles slightly at this. "Maybe." For a moment she studies me while her smile fades. "Anyway, start cooking, jerk. It'll be dark soon, and then we'll party."

Great. I nod, pushing myself up from the log, and start finding wood and paper for a fire. The propane heater is just about out of fuel, so tonight I'll be using actual fire for boiling stuff. Makes more sense to me, really.

I can feel Asuka's eyes on me, but shortly she starts putting stuff away, cleaning up the mess she made. I put her out of my mind.

Soon she summons my attention, however. "Hey, Shinji."

I glance up, quickly spotting her at the edge of the trees, carrying an armful of cleaning stuff and with a towel draped over her shoulder. "Yeah?"

"I'm going to go wash and change." Blue eyes meet my own directly, confidently, for a long moment before she spins and disappears into the trees.

My heart starts pounding as I stare after her. Was that... that was an _invitation_, wasn't it? No way. I'm more or less okay touching her in safe places, but there's no way in hell I'm walking in there on her bathing without a crystal-clear invitation. Which... potentially... I could get, if I asked for it. Eventually.

Wow. Yeah. Not today, though.

Shaking my head briskly, I return to the task of fire-building. About all that's left now is to light the thing, which I do, using Asuka's lighter -- trust her to find a BMW one somewhere -- since mine has run out. Then I sit back and watch, making sure the wind doesn't smother it.

She was probably just teasing me. She had to know I wouldn't take her up on it, and was just doing that to put the suggestion in my head. If I actually had followed her, I bet she'd have been surprised and a little uncomfortable. If I didn't just get kicked in the crotch outright. Hell, it's just in the last day or two we've been able to hold hands, even.

In any case, though, that look is going to be staying in my head for a few days. And I suppose at the very least it means I'm allowed to flirt back at her a little more openly. If I knew how to.

Eventually she makes it back to the campsite. She's clean, of course, and has changed into a shirt I haven't seen before, one that's black and grey and exposes a little belly. Nice. She must be feeling better about the birthmarks, then.

After nodding to my answering smile, she shuffles over towards where I'm kneeling. Shortly she's directly behind me, her knees actually touching my back. "What's cooking?" The faint smell of soap from her counters the ever-present odor of smoke near the fire.

"Linguine alfredo." The sauce came from a powder, so it's going to suck, but she probably won't care. Or maybe even notice.

"Cool." Fingers thread into my hair, then ruffle it playfully, actually swaying my head slowly back and forth. "Good Shinji."

"You wanna cook?" Twisting, I offer up the chopstick I've been using to stir the noodles. "I don't have to, and I'd be happy to go read or something while you finish this off."

"No, you're good at it." Giving my head one last shake, she steps over to her bin of clothes and starts rooting around.

Frowning, I push my hair back into place. "Such a brat."

"What?"

"What?" I don't even look at her as I give the noodles another stir.

"I thought you said something."

I shrug, sitting back on the log again. After a moment she loses interest in the conversation, then goes back to her clothes. I smile.

Shortly she plops down beside me on the log and starts to brush her hair. She doesn't say anything, just watches the fire while I finish cooking, and when I start draining the noodles she puts the brush away. Her hair, without whatever stuff she would normally put in it, is a little frizzy as it dries.

Conversation remains absent while we eat, and I don't really mind. The silence is comfortable now.

Afterwards, while she cleans, I make my way over to where the generator and stereo sit. Despite my earlier objections to her taste in music, I don't really mind this stuff; it'll be nice to have something to listen to. I just hope she doesn't think I'm going to dance.

Before long footsteps approach behind me and slim arms slip around my waist. "Hey," she purrs into my ear.

I smile at the ground, reaching awkwardly behind myself to press the small of her back into me. She lets me do so, melting into me. "Hi."

"This will be the world's first party after Third Impact," she murmurs. "Are you ready to make history?"

I chuckle at this, turning around in her arms; she continues to hold me, staring into my eyes from just centimeters away. "I think if history remembers us," I point out, "it won't be for this."

She laughs, letting go of me and stepping around to the generator. "That's probably true."

"And a party of two is usually called something else," I continue, frowning; I was sort of hoping for a kiss there, when she was so close.

"Yeah?" As she flips the generator on, she's forced to speak more loudly over it. "Like what?"

I wait until she's meeting my gaze, then smile uncomfortably, hoping I'm not totally making this up. "A couple."

She smiles back at me, and for once it's not teasing or sly; it's just a smile. "Yeah. You have a point there." Before I can reply, she twists back around and starts pushing buttons on the stereo.

Shortly the first song begins, something lively but barely loud enough to compete with the generator. Asuka changes this quickly, twisting the volume until just before my ears start to hurt. "There," she shouts, nodding her approval. "Sound good?"

"Are you deaf?" I yell back, covering my ears. "This is way too loud!"

"We're not going to be standing next to the speakers, dolt," she counters, grabbing my wrist and pulling me a short distance away. "We'll be over here. Dancing."

Fortunately, with no walls to contain the sound, the volume drops off noticeably just five meters away; it's still loud, but comfortable. "Look, I... don't really know how to dance."

"You think I care?" she grins. "Even if you did, I'd still be better than you." Grabbing my wrists, she starts dancing, pulling me off-balance, making me move.

I don't recognize the song, but it's sparkly and silly, and her enthusiasm is infectious. I'm sure she doesn't really know how to dance either, but she still looks better at it than I am, or maybe she's just more graceful, a word I've never really thought to apply to her before this. Somehow the endearing innocence of the music and her continuing teasing get me to move, and I start to dance as well, mostly just hopping lamely up and down in place. She doesn't seem to care, though; at the sight, she claps hands in front of her chest and throws her head back in laughter, but not the mocking kind.

Next to a fire throwing the occasional spark into the air, and under a violet sky dusted lightly with stars, we dance. We celebrate that we're alive, that we're happy, that we exist at all and that we're together. We shout to fill the empty world, to challenge the reign of silence that doesn't have to be there anymore. We exist, and we dance, and we love.

When the fire finally burns low and the music starts to repeat, Asuka pauses to turn off the electronics, and together we stumble into the tent. Faint filtered moonlight guides us to the blankets and we crawl under them, both of us still giggling, to create a cocoon of warmth in an otherwise inhospitable world. With my arms around her, and her back snuggled tightly up to my chest, we share the pillow and wait to slip together into our dreams.

* * *

_Author's notes: Aaaaand done. I'm actually fairly happy with how this one turned out. In retrospect, I should maybe cut out some parts where it moves a little slowly for my tastes, but I doubt I'll change it now._

_Anyway, I just think it's funny that I wrote an almost-70k-word M-rated romance and they didn't even kiss. Ha! Hahahaahaa... ahhh, good times. In all seriousness, though, I didn't do that to be a jerk. To me the story was about achieving emotional, rather than physical intimacy (despite the sexual tension). If you're one of these two, you just can't take _anything _for granted, not civil conversation, not innocent human contact, not being able to stay in the same place, maybe not even the other person trying to save your life when you need it. As such, I thought leaping into that level of physical relationship would be a little too much, too fast. Sometimes less is more.  
_

_Serious and heartfelt thanks go out to everyone who's read and reviewed thus far. I appreciate people pointing out weaknesses in the story as much as I like hearing what people liked; it's as important to know what doesn't work as it is to know what does. Some things, I couldn't do much about, given the premise and setting, but for other comments I changed what I could to improve things. KuMardagg: you are correct (though I didn't think about it explicitly until you pointed it out). I think Asuka has more barriers to relationship-forming than Shinji does, and he's probably more willing to overlook stuff that pisses him off as long as she's good company on the whole, so most of the smoke-clearing was for her benefit. Anonymous: yeah, I agree that I probably should've mentioned the past and other characters more. I had a few references here and there and probably should have had more, but I couldn't find many places to fit them in without making it sound clumsy. Apologies. Glad I could make you like Asuka, though. :) Everyone else (since I'm starting to ramble): you guys know who you are, and you rock. All of you. Thank you._

_Okay, that's all, I promise. Until next time.  
_


	16. Epilogue: Itoshiki Mono Yo

_A/N: So I was looking for a break from the rather grim fic I'm working on now. I wanted something light-hearted or happy, and this is what came out. Hopefully it will appease the readers who expressed dissatisfaction over this fic's abrupt end. Enjoy, and be prepared for WAFF. :)_

* * *

Epilogue: Itoshiki-Mono Yo

"God damn it, Shinji. Why can't you hold one simple object in one simple place?"

The idiot gives his baseball cap an angry tug, pulling it almost low enough to conceal his sunglasses, and glares at me. In the harsh afternoon sunlight, he's sweated through most of his t-shirt, and the red water we're standing in has soaked his jeans thoroughly. "You really want an answer, or are you just asking because you're mad?" In the shallows next to his legs is a shiny length of metal ventwork, half-submerged.

What a dick. Folding arms over my chest, I glare right back at him. "I want an answer, smartass."

"It's sunny out," he answers tightly, pointing one finger at the sun above. "And that thing," he adds, shifting to point at the tube, "is made out of metal. It feels like it just came out of an oven. So it hurts my hands and makes them sweat, and then when I try to shift my grip on it, it slips and falls because it's heavy and you want it pointed at this stupid angle."

"Oooh, how very plausible," I acknowledge, lifting a cool eyebrow. God, he's probably right. I didn't think of that. We're trying to connect the tube to a boxy makeshift boiler we dragged into the water here. It's supposed to carry steam to a condensing chamber, which is in fact just an oversized hard-plastic cooler. One of these days I'll rig something up to make it cool in there instead of room temperature, but it'll still sort of work this way. Enough to get us clean water.

His face darkens further as ruby waves lap against our thighs. "Well, maybe you want to hold it up instead, if you don't believe me."

I laugh at this. "And trust you with the soldering iron? No fucking way."

"You don't trust me to hold up the vent thing either," he sighs, "so what's the point? Maybe I should just let you do this yourself." Giving his head a shake, he turns and wades away, back towards our supplies on the beach forty meters away.

I stare after him for a time, then grimace and set the soldering iron back on the second generator we grabbed yesterday. Finding a waterproof one was a bitch. Above, seagulls circle and drift along with the wind, crying their stupid shrill cries. I don't even know when they started showing back up -- we haven't been by the water much until just recently -- but I was glad to see them. Now they just annoy me, though. They don't fucking shut up, and they shit on everything.

"Shinji," I call halfheartedly, "wait." He doesn't wait, though, since he's almost back to the shore already, and he doesn't stop or turn around either. With a shake of my head I start slogging after him, making a face at the thick scents of salt and blood. Insistent sea breeze tugs at my hair and shirt as I move, but the shirt doesn't move much since it's almost as wet as my jeans. I can't wait to finish this and clean up.

When Shinji reaches the beach he drops to sit next to the little picnic basket we brought along, then pulls his hat off and runs a hand through his hair. I reach him in moments and collapse at his side. Today hasn't been a good day.

After a moment I swallow. "Shinji, it's... hot, and this is frustrating work, and I don't really like doing it either. I'm sorry."

He waves a hand, then tugs off his sunglasses and squints out over the water. He actually has a faint but noticeable tan from wearing them, thin pale lines on either side of his face stretching from eye to temple. "Don't worry about it."

I nod, shifting my gaze back to the ocean, like him. Rei's distant stone face hasn't changed at all since I first saw it a month ago, but at least from this beach we can only see one of the petrified mass-produced Evas. Shinji wanted to make our setup at the beach where we first appeared, but I pointed out that if other people show up there too, I don't want them poking around with and maybe breaking the stuff we put so much effort into making. Not to mention the potential weirdness of awakening from something as bizarre as Third Impact to find something as mundane as an electrical generator chugging along nearby. So instead we're at another beach, closer to home and actually a little bigger and nicer than the other. Jagged stone bluffs rise out of the water to our right, decorated here and there with clingy little grasses and shrubs and such, while to our left the beach stretches for at least a half-kilometer of smooth sand.

"We should eat something," mutters Shinji, reaching back for the picnic basket. "Some food would help my mood, at least. What do you want?"

"Give me the trail mix, and some of that orange Jock-Ade or whatever it is." Another gust of wind pushes my hair around, bringing a little relief from the day's heat.

He complies without speaking, pausing to grab something for himself. In silence we crunch through the assorted snacks serving as today's lunch. Sunlight glitters on the waves ahead, dries the bloody water soaking my clothes.

Once I'm done, I wipe my palms on my still-damp jeans and give my mouth a twist. Our equipment is still glittering sadly out in the water, waiting to be put together into a functioning machine. "Hey, let's just work at it for another hour or two, okay? There's no real rush, and we could just as easily do it on a cloudy day."

"Why didn't you just say that this morning?" he mutters around a mouthful of soy nuts.

I shrug. "Because I didn't feel like it."

"Great. Okay."

Rolling my eyes, I down the last of my orange drink, then stand and stare down at Shinji. He blinks up at me without expression, glugging a drink from his own bottle. While he's watching, I unbutton and unzip my jeans.

Predictably, he chokes, spraying me with water. "A... Asuka! What the hell are you...?" He trails off, doubling over and coughing, but makes no move to stop me as I slide the waist of the garment down over my hips.

After stepping out of the legs, I toss the jeans at him and he jerks to catch them. "Calm down, dork."

Still coughing, he wipes a tear from one eye and glares at me, then throws my pants carelessly aside. "What the hell was that for? At least you're wearing the swimsuit under those. I didn't think...."

I laugh at him as I start tugging my shirt off as well. "You really think I'd come down here to wade around in the water, and then not wear a swimsuit to do it? You've got a pretty high opinion of yourself if you think I'm going to walk around in my underwear for you, let alone naked."

He catches my shirt when I throw it at him, then throws it right back at my face. "Why'd you wear clothes at all if you were just going to do this?"

"I didn't want to get sunburned, genius. Plus the jeans protected me from scratches and stuff when we were moving all the junk off the truck and into the water. And I knew your reaction would be funny." The pants were ruined well before this anyway, worn, torn and mud-stained.

He shakes his head at this, then starts counting points on his fingers. "Okay, first of all, that swimsuit is actually _more_ revealing than just your underwear. I used to wash that stuff for you, remember? I know what it looks like. Not that it... well, anyway. Second... you're going to burn anyway if you stay like that now. You're really pale, and with the birthmarks I'm not sure how they'll...."

"Fuck you very much, Shinji." Planting hands on my hips, I fix him with a cold glare. "Then it can be your job to stop me when you think I'm in danger of burning, since I won't think of it."

He blinks again, and his face slides from anger through caution and into thought. Cobalt-blue eyes roam my face for a moment before he nods. "That's... yeah, that's... fine."

I nod as well, then turn and start striding back into the water. I suppose he wasn't expecting my retaliation to involve placing my comfort and safety in his hands. The rules are different now.

When I reach the setup we left out in the waves, he's wading after me. Grabbing the battery-powered soldering iron, I switch it back on, then wait while the tip heats up to a faintly-smoking readiness.

Shinji arrives shortly, then strips out of his shirt and uses it to grab the metal ductwork still lying in the water. A good idea, I suppose, and it does leave his top half bare for my inspection. He's not really well-built, to say the least, and he probably never will be, but what muscles he has are toned and quite visible under his skin, a benefit from the way we've been living since coming back. He has a nasty farmer's tan, though, sun-dark forearms shifting abruptly to a dorky pallor over the rest of his arms and chest.

Once he's ready with the tube, he stands there holding it and blinking at me... and it occurs to me that I'm just staring, checking him out. With a toss of my head I step aside, allowing him room to fit the duct onto the answering port I've made for it on the boiler side. Then, with iron in one hand and a wire of solder in the other, I set about trying to make two pieces of metal into one.

Two hours later the tube is attached and I'm messing around with the intake of the makeshift boiler, a rectangular metal hole a half-meter under the water's surface. It's annoying work since I can barely see what I'm doing, and I'm not totally sure any of it is going to work, but if it doesn't I suppose we can just try it all again. Eventually.

"Asuka."

"Hmm?" After a little bit of re-shaping work, I'm grimacing as I try to fumble the intake back into place.

"You're starting to burn, I think. We should go."

I frown at Shinji, then at my upper body, which is indeed turning pinkish, at least where it's not already pink on account of the scars. After a moment I nod and turn back to the equipment. "Okay. Just let me get this thing in, then cover it all up, and we can...."

His hand grips my shoulder, gently but firmly. "No. It's time to go. No rush, remember?"

Facing away from him, I smile at the water. Then I spin around and push his arm roughly away. "I don't know who the hell you think you are," I growl, wading past him and towards the shore, "telling me what to do, but it's a good thing for you I was ready to stop anyway. If I were a vindictive person I'd be thinking of a way to mess you up now."

Shinji pauses to reclaim his dripping-wet shirt from the water, then tags along with me, saying nothing. He's not impressed, of course, neither alarmed nor threatened. A little annoyed at me, maybe, but that should be pretty normal for him by now.

Once we reach the beach, I bend to retrieve our picnic basket and we continue on without a pause towards the truck. "Home?" I prompt, tugging open the passenger-side door and waiting while the sun-boiled heat inside the cab dissipates out into the surrounding air. "Or do you want to go somewhere else first?"

Shinji shrugs, then frowns out at the water again. "You want to go explore that ship that washed up under the bluffs?"

I deliver a halfhearted punch to his stomach but he slaps my hand away before I can hit him. "I really doubt it's safe enough to explore, Shinji. And it's a commercial transport anyway; there's probably nothing in it but sparkplugs or cans of paint or something equally stupid."

He shrugs again, twisting seawater out of his shirt. "Then you want to throw rocks at it or something?"

"Sure." Without further ado I hop into the truck, then flinch at the feel of the hot seat on my bare back and thighs. The swimsuit doesn't exactly offer much protection.

Shinji climbs into his own seat, and then we're rumbling into motion. Despite all the running around we've done in the last few days, he still drives like a grandma.

After a quick jaunt to a residential district to shower -- a rare luxury now -- and change into clean clothes, we plow through a barbed-wire fence and onto a narrow private drive that'll take us near the ship. The vessel itself is a smallish one, of Chinese origin; I can't read the name but Shinji seems to think it's a place name, like "wooded ridge," or something, and that makes me laugh. In any case, it's maybe a hundred fifty meters long, it's slanting drunkenly in the rocky shallows, and our thrown rocks do absolutely no damage to it. It's fun, though.

When we finally get back home it's almost dark; the sky is a clear star-dusted violet, crossed as always by the red ring of souls, though the moon won't be up for another few hours yet. Shinji cooks some packaged Italian stuff and I clean up afterwards. The whole meal takes less than a half-hour.

Afterwards, I sprawl next to him on the ground, leaning back against the log, staring up at the glittering sky. My hip is pressed against his. "Hey, dork."

"Yeah?"

"I don't know why I even feel the need to ask this, but you've never had a girlfriend before, have you?" Ahead of us, the fire crackles away, warming my face.

He laughs out loud. "Me? Are you kidding?"

I laugh as well, but more quietly, and I stop first. "I just... you and Rei always seem like you had something going on."

"Rei?" I'm not looking at his face, but his voice betrays clear confusion. "She... no, not really. I think she was more like a sister, or maybe a friend."

I have my doubts about this, and the pressure of his hip against mine conveys a little tension despite his still-fading chuckles. He's lying, or not telling the whole truth. "Perv like you probably wanted more, though."

He sighs. "I... don't know. Sometimes, maybe."

So yes. Figures. With effort I clear a scowl from my face. Then I force a chuckle. "Of course, with the two of as socially inept as you were, I don't suppose there was anything to worry about."

"Well, no." Shinji pauses to scratch an itch on his arm, and I can feel him moving against me. "But now that I think about it, she was kind of... free, in some ways. I saw her naked once and I don't think it really bothered her."

What a slut. I rub my face tiredly. "Yeah, that... figures, I suppose."

"Yeah. Plus I touched one of her breasts."

"Ah. Yeah, you... wait, _what?_" Sitting up, I twist to punch his shoulder, hard. "How the hell did _that _happen?"

He jerks upright as well, clutching his arm and scowling at me with those dark twilight eyes. "What the hell's your problem? She was naked and I got clumsy and fell on her!"

"Oh, very convenient." Lips twisting, I punch him again. "Were you going to tell me about that, you dumbass? Like, 'By the way, Asuka, I've seen yours and probably Misato's and I've touched Rei's. I'm the fucking Don Juan of losers!'" Another punch. Serves him right. "Who else? Hikari, maybe? Ritsuko?" Another punch, folded knuckles into his shoulder muscle.

"Nobody else! You never asked, and it's not like I'm just going to drop that into a conversation at random!" He bats for a moment at my flailing arms, then catches and pulls them to cross my wrists over my chest. He's glaring at me from centimeters away now, not a snarling I'm-going-to-hit-you-back sort of glare, but more of an outraged how-dare-you-strike-me kind. Like I've offended his sensibilities more than I've angered or hurt him.

I can't move, though. It seems I've never really appreciated how _strong_ his grip is now, or maybe it's just that his breath on my cheek has a paralyzing effect on me. I find that I'm just... staring at him, wide-eyed. Waiting to see what he does.

After a moment he blinks, then clears his throat and offers a nervous smile. "Oh. Um... hi."

I close my mouth -- I didn't realize it was open until now -- and swallow. His hands are shaking, I th-- no, those are mine. _I'm_ shaking.

As though he realizes this at the same time, he releases me like I'm burning his hands, then reaches to toy with the hair on the back of his head. "Um, I'm... sorry. I shouldn't have, um...."

"Oh!" I twitch, then fold my hands into my lap and purse my lips. "No, I'm sorry. I guess I shouldn't... you know, hit you and stuff." I feel a little childish now, and he didn't even say anything.

"Yeah," he exhales, talking more to himself than me, I think. He's no longer meeting my gaze. With a frown and a little shake of his head, he shifts around, leaning back against the log once more. "That was sort of weird."

"Mmm." Eyeing him sideways, I chew my lip a moment longer, then join him against the log.

"Anyway," he murmurs over the crackling of the fire, "what about you?"

"What? What about me?"

He shifts. "I know you've gone on dates and stuff before, so you must have had boyfriends."

It actually takes a moment's thought to remember what he's talking about, and then I just smile ruefully up at the stars. "Never more than one date with any given guy. I guess they found me sort of... hard to get along with, I guess."

"Weird," he acknowledges after a moment. "I don't understand that at all."

"Yeah, fuck you." Stretching arms above my head, I take the chance to shift a little closer to him. "Not like you were a prize either."

He shrugs again, unconcerned by this insult, and his arm finds its way around my shoulder. "Wanna play cards?

I shake my head. "Nah. This is nicer."

"Yeah, I thought so too."

I roll my eyes at this. "Why'd you even ask, then?"

He doesn't answer, and I find myself grinning at the sky. Then I blink, abruptly aware of how close we are, how we're touching.

It's strange, still. There are times, like this, when it just strikes me how _new_ this still is. It was only a few days ago we started sleeping in the same tent. A week ago I was sure I still hated him. And now we're a couple, and we cuddle. _I_ cuddle. With _Shinji_.

"You okay?" he murmurs, giving my shoulder a squeeze without looking over at me. "You sort of twitched there."

I'm still not sure how this all happened, how easily I shifted from one extreme to another in my opinion of him. Or maybe I was always like this, and my frustration with all his weaknesses just made me pissed-off and disgusted. I don't know. What I do know is even though this strikes me as weird intellectually, it doesn't _feel_ weird. It feels normal.

"Asuka?" He turns to give me a concerned frown.

"I'm fine." I flash him a sunny grin and he nods, turning his attention skyward again.

I keep studying him after he looks away. His face is the same as when I met him, half-boyish, half-manly, only now it's seasoned by a confidence I doubt I could shake if I spent my whole life trying, confidence he's probably not even aware he has. His brow is a little creased now, as if in thought, like he's pondering something profound as he stares up at the red ring of souls. And maybe he is. He's always asked deeper questions than I have.

A casual observer would think he's just another quiet kid, but he and I... we were gods once. We did shit no one would believe if they hadn't seen it. And Shinji... Shinji's a guy who can literally hold the world in the palm of his hand and hate everything about it, and still choose to let it go on living, even on the assumption that he'd be doing so in eternal loneliness.

That's why I know he'll never hurt me again. He got all of the hurting out of his system already.

Eventually he glances over at me with confused look on his face. Then he smiles, a little uncomfortably. "What is it?"

I shake my head and settle back against the log again, pausing to hug his arm to myself. Then I place a kiss on the skin just below where his shirt sleeve ends. He still smells like soap, after bathing hours ago. Soap and wood smoke.

He freezes, then gives me an awkward one-armed hug. I figured our first real kiss, as such, would surprise him, and though it has, he seems somehow even stiffer than I would've expected. Only when his fingers twitch against the shirt over my stomach does it occur to me why this is: he's trying to hug me while I'm holding his forearm between my breasts, and he's trying to do it without touching them further.

I'm sure he can feel my smile against his bicep. On impulse I squeeze his arm tighter against myself, hoping to make the message clear. Then I rub my cheek against his arm and speak in a low voice. "Shinji?"

I can hear him lick his lips. "Yeah?"

I let my eyes slide shut, though my smile remains. "Whatcha thinkin?"

"Oh. Um, that this is nice." His fingers begin to trace absent circles against my stomach.

I bet that's not all he's thinking. "Mmm. Shinji?"

He swallows. "Yeah?"

"You can say it."

"Um... say what?"

I don't answer, just sit there without releasing his arm, and he doesn't try to take it back. In a way this sort of bugs me; I'd prefer it if he just went and _took_ what he wanted from me... but I can't really hold him at fault for that, not when I haven't done anything before now either. Plus, even though he's more attractive when he's confident, he's cuter when he's just a little off-balance and I'm not, so this is fun. And in any case, if he were on the offensive instead of me, I'd probably just get angry at him for taking me for granted, so who knows, maybe this is better.

When the silence stretches, I sigh, long and slow, and thread my fingers through his own. "Go ahead. I'm not going to judge you or anything."

He swallows again, then sighs as well. "Fine. It's just that you're... the stuff you're doing is, uh... it's... turning me on."

Huh. He actually said it. I manage to summon a glare from somewhere. "Wait, what? Here I'm trying to cuddle and your mind is in the gutter? For fuck's sake, Shinji!"

He tries to jerk his arm away. "Aw, come on! You said you wouldn't judge me!"

I elbow his ribs, making him jump. "That was before I knew what you were thinking, perv!"

Grunting, he shifts around before settling back into place. "Oh, whatever. It's not like you're really mad."

"Oh?" Sometimes I forget that he's wise now. Bastard can probably see right through me. "What makes you say that?"

"I can just tell. And you're, uh, still holding my arm." His finger pokes my stomach once for emphasis. "So nice try, but I know you're happy I said that."

Right. Damn it. I risk a dark sideways glance only to find that he's just staring at the stars. Miniature orange flames dance in his eyes.

After a moment I give my shoulders a frustrated roll. "Thanks for killing the mood, slick."

He sways in a silent chuckle. "Yeah. _I_ killed the mood." I bristle, but he continues before I can speak. "Anyway, I have a question for you."

I release his arm to examine my fingernails in the dim light, but he doesn't move. Good. "Fine. What's your stupid question?"

Something pops in the fire, sending sparks braiding skyward for the moment it takes them to fade to nothing. Shinji heaves a sigh. "Our first kiss, back at Misato's place... what was that all about, anyway?"

Oh, yeah. My teeth clench together but I take a deep breath, forcing myself to relax. I get it now, why he didn't react, why he just stood there like a fucking mannequin when I kissed him, but that was sort of the beginning of the end for us, I think. When I can trust myself to speak again, I swallow, then do so in a quiet voice. "Basically... I was mad at Kaji for staying out with Misato. And you were there."

He doesn't move, doesn't acknowledge this, as we sit together under the stars. Eventually, though, he slumps somewhat, letting his head loll back. "Is that really why? That was all?" His voice has dropped to a fearful whisper.

I close my eyes. "I wish I could tell you otherwise, honestly, but that was almost verbatim what was going through my head at the time." I pause, turning my head in his direction without opening my eyes. "But, Shinji... if it had been anyone but you... I wouldn't have done it."

Clothes whisper and his cheek presses against my forehead. "Okay. I believe you."

I nod without speaking, glad that my eyes are closed. In retrospect it was a selfish, shitty thing to do, toying with him like that to make myself feel better, but now his forgiveness is so obvious and inevitable, at least in his head, that he doesn't even bother to say it. He just assumes I know.

"So... yeah," I whisper when I can speak again. "Sorry for... for smothering you. I guess that was pretty rude, huh?"

His cheek curves into my forehead; I imagine his smile is fond. "Yeah, maybe. But you smelled nice. And your lips are soft."

Oh? "What did I smell like? I don't even remember."

He shrugs. "Not sure. Shampoo, maybe? Something... it makes me think of... vanilla?"

"Oh. Lotion." Misato's lotion, actually. I nod, reaching over to curl absent fingers into the soft fabric of his shirt. Above us, a twinkling star etches a slow path across the heavens, probably some forgotten satellite catching the missing sun. "And what was that about my lips?"

"You heard me." His voice is low now, amused.

"Well, yeah," I murmur, sliding one hand under his shirt to touch his stomach. "I'm just surprised that you, of all people, remembered my _lips_ when I think my chest was touching you."

He snorts -- actually snorts -- at this, and gives my stomach an affectionate pat. "You think about your boobs way too much, Asuka. You have other nice features."

I hesitate, offended, but curiosity gets the better of me. "Like what?"

"Like all of them."

I pinch his stomach, not enough to hurt him. "That's not an answer." Still, it's pretty smooth, especially for him. Maybe there's hope for him yet.

"Well," he sighs, "I could tell you, but then it would go to your head. And that's the last thing you need."

"You're such an ass."

His arm tightens briefly around my neck. "Yeah. But this way you have to keep me around to find out."

"Whatever. Fine." I shift, letting my head rest on his chest, and I can hear his pounding heartbeat. He's keeping himself pretty composed for how excited he is. "But seriously, though, you are an ass."

"You'll live."

"Mmm." I roll lips between my teeth, letting my fingers roam along his stomach. "What are you thinking?"

He shifts in a quiet chuckle. "You just asked me that, like... two minutes ago."

"Oh, yeah."

"What about you?"

"Me?" I take a moment to ponder this while tracing the shallow ridges of his stomach muscles. Then, rather than answer with words, I lift my face to his neck and pause there, letting my breath warm his skin. And then I plant a soft kiss there.

Shinji freezes; his hand on my stomach curls into a fist, balling up the fabric, and for a wild moment I fear he might actually rip it off me, but such proves not to be the case. Rather, after his initial shock passes, he twists to kiss my temple.

He can do better than that. I edge my face up, almost nuzzling his own out of the way, and kiss his cheek. My breath is coming quickly now, my chest buzzing.

He takes the hint and counters by sliding his lips to mine. Our kiss is jerky and hot, with rough edges we'll need practice smoothing out. It's also infinitely better than the disastrous first one, because not only is he actively participating now, he's even grabbing my shoulders to pull me closer, and... and he's... the, um... warm... I'm not....

Later, when we finally break the kiss, I let my head thump against his collarbone and wait for breath and reason to return to me. My fingers curl and straighten in the fabric of his t-shirt without conscious direction, and I can feel my pulse racing in the roof of my mouth with every nervous swallow.

He's still frozen with one arm around me, probably staring off at the shadowed tent behind me. I can almost see the wheels spinning in his head, can read his thoughts like text on a page. He knew we were a couple before this, but being Shinji, hadn't taken the physical aspect for granted. Now that that plane has been opened for him, however, I'm sure what's unfolding in his head is one perverted scenario after another as it sinks in that I might, just might, be willing to do those things with him, that those are fair and plausible things to ask of a serious relationship.

Or maybe that's just what's in my head, but in any case... not tonight. The thought disappoints me, makes me roll nervous lips between my teeth, but... I think it's for the best. The old Asuka would have been jumping all over such a chance, while the old Shinji would have been aghast at any human contact at all, so I think somewhere in the middle is probably the wisest choice.

Eventually he exhales, almost slumping, and shakes his head. One hand gives my shoulder a squeeze, while the other starts toying with the hair spilling down my back. "So... that was kinda...."

I clear my throat. "Yeah. We, um... yeah." I giggle, then cut myself off with a solemn frown, all without lifting my head from his chest.

He takes another deep breath, then rests his chin on my head. "I... can't remember what we were talking about."

"Does it matter?"

"Hmm. Guess not."

I slide my eyes sideways to stare at the fire still crackling away. "Hey."

"Yeah."

I draw my brows together, considering how to word it. "I made the first move tonight, but if you ever make me do that more than, say... twice in a row, I'm going to kick you in the nuts afterwards. Be a man and take what's yours."

He sways with a chuckle. "That's sort of the reaction I'm afraid of even if I _do _what you're asking."

I give my lips a twist at this. "What? You're scared of taking the initiative?"

"No, I'm joking. Point taken."

"Good." My eyes drift shut. I can still hear his racing heart. "So we have an understanding?"

"I just said we do."

I smile, letting the fire warm my face as Shinji warms the rest of me; in the slow aftermath of my excitement, I'm actually starting to feel a little sleepy. It sounds stupid, a little saccharine, but... in retrospect Third Impact was probably the best thing that ever happened to me. I don't even remember if I wanted anything like this before it or not -- the months preceding the end of the world are sort of a blur now -- but I'd go through it all again if I had to, a dozen times, just for this. Just for this sense of openness, of acceptance, the knowledge that I can show Shinji all the ugly and hissing parts of my soul and he'll still love me as much as he does now.

He's not going to hear such a sappy thing from my lips, however.

He already knows.

"Hey," he murmurs, "do you want to go to bed soon?" His voice vibrates through my skull, hums in my heart.

I give my head a little shake. "I like it here."

"Okay." His arms tighten around me, and I smile.

* * *

_A/N: So, what's the verdict? Does it work or does it cheapen the story? I'm torn, personally, as I've never written an epilogue before. If enough people are gagging or flinching at this chapter I might pull it down, or maybe post it elsewhere._


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